Mr Not Quite Good Enough by Lauri Kubuitsile Read Free Book Online Page A

go.
    â€œDon’t call me again – ever ,” Gorata told Showa, and then turned to Henry. “Thank you.”
    She walked out into the cool spring evening, flagged a passing taxi and rode most of the way home, but decided to stop the driver some blocks from her house. She needed time alone, and with Mmandu and Kelebogile in her small house, that was in short supply. She paid the taxi driver and got out.
    Spring in Soweto was a beautiful time. Gorata could smell the sweet syringa in the night air. A tomcat called for his love somewhere in the distance. She could hear an old Boom Shaka song playing on someone’s radio set by an open window. The nearly full moon peeked out from behind a bank of clouds.
    Gorata was surprised she wasn’t as upset as she thought she might be. She liked Showa, but even before all of this she had known that she didn’t love him. The question had been – could she grow to love him? Would it be okay to marry him in the hope that eventually he would transform into her Mr Right? That question had been decisively answered tonight.
    â€œHey, Lady Gorata!”
    Gorata was pulled from her thoughts. She had reached the petrol station without realising it. “Hey, Ozee.”
    She hadn’t seen him since the Cellacom meeting. He’d seemed so different there. He’d mixed her up, and she felt embarrassed about how she’d behaved and what she’d said. But despite this she was happy to see him tonight. He always made her feel happy. And now at least he was back in his uniform, back to the old Ozee she knew, the one she was comfortable with.
    He jogged up to her. “That’s some fancy gear for walking the mean streets of Soweto,” he said, looking down at her Ghanaian dress. “And where’s your fly ride tonight?”
    â€œI was out on a date and it ended sooner than I expected. Got a lift with him, left my car at home – unfortunately.”
    â€œWhat did the mampara do? Was it the crazy bungee-jumping one?” Ozee asked.
    Gorata laughed. “No, not that one . . . Anyway, it doesn’t matter.”
    â€œListen, I can’t let a lovely lady like you walk home alone. Anything could happen. Wait here. Let me talk to the boss, I’ll walk you home.” Before Gorata could say anything, Ozee was gone. Within a few seconds he was back again. “Okay, no problem. Let’s go.”
    He held out his arm for her to hold. “Let me escort you, Lady Gorata.”
    She took his arm, giggling. They walked for some time without talking.
    â€œSo when do you think you’re going to give up those bozos?” Ozee asked.
    â€œWhich bozos?”
    â€œThe long string of guys you keep going out with.”
    For some reason Gorata didn’t find him presumptuous for saying that, although she would have had it been anyone else. But with him, she felt she could be honest. “It’s not that I’m looking for bozos. Maybe I’m just a bozo magnet.”
    Ozee laughed. “You’re not a bozo magnet. Look at me, stuck by your side, and I’m no bozo.”
    Gorata smiled. He was right, he wasn’t a bozo at all. He was kind and sweet and handsome and she wished her house was kilometres away and they could walk all night instead of just a few blocks.
    She felt comfortable with Ozee. She hardly knew him, but she trusted him. He was honest. He was who he was, no pretences or games. Ozee, a petrol attendant, a committed flirt. “Yeah, you’re right. You’re no bozo.”
    â€œBut you’re looking for Mr Right,” he said. “And I’m Mr Not Quite Good Enough.”
    â€œNo! It’s not like that!” Gorata protested. “Really, it’s not.”
    â€œIsn’t it?” Ozee smiled and his dimples showed, but his eyebrows arched, indicating that he didn’t believe what she was saying.
    Gorata wasn’t sure if she even believed what she was saying. She