REBEL GRAINED

RECIPE

Lars didn't take Thulile where he intended; the day was too emotion-filled for Lars to throw in another suspense sequence. The surprise would have to wait. They returned to his place. Femi was at school, and Thulile's gran watched tv while Steven attended a Zoom call.

Yes, they lived like one happy family, too good to be true for Thulile.

The woman went straight to her room. Lars wondered if he hadn't stepped over a boundary by telling her how much he'd miss her.

Thulile didn't react. She had this vague stare. The worst would have happened if she hadn't turned her head away. Thank goodness, thought Lars, who had no choice but to acknowledge that the temptation was great at that instant in his car.

In her room, Thulile paced. The situation was getting out of hand. She and her family had to leave; it was imperative. She called the only person who could advise her and regretted her gesture the second after.

"Nandi isn't funny. I truly thought he was going to kiss me."

"What did you do?"

"I shut my eyes and turned away," Thulile replied.

"What, why? You should have let the man do it. You need some frisking, sister."

"Nandi," Thulile protested.

"Why are you making such a fuss? Admit it, Thulile. You like the man."

"You deserve a whooping, Nandi."

"Let me tell you. You are angry and frustrated because you're resisting. You got the feeling, let the sexual healing happen. If it's not Lars, it will be someone else."

Nandi repeated herself, and it drove her friend up the wall.

"Stop it. I don't want anyone else," Thulile said before regretting her statement.

Too late, Nandi laughed, "look at you confessing without notice."

"I'm not confessing."

"If you say so."

Thulile hung up; she was even more flustered than when she called. She needed to clear her mind. She went down and handed outside to the pool house. It was one of those moments where she had to make coffee, not that she needed a cup but preparing the drink had a calming effect on her nerves.

Thulile began to make the brew. She worked all afternoon. During that time, Lars was out. The man got back before dinner time and found Thulile finishing up.

"What are you doing?"

"I was making coffee."

"What recipe?" The man said and approached.

"It's for Palesa,"

"It smells good. Can I try?" 

Lars rarely volunteered. Thulile was the one who usually forced him, but there, the man was willing, and Thulile knew why.

"It's a special blend. You can't drink it." Thulile said.

"Why?"

"It's not adapted to you."

Lars frowned, "why?"

"It's for Palesa's hemorrhoid."

"Pardon," Lars grimaced, "poor Palesa."

Thulile closed her eyes. She was ashamed to bestow such a plague on the woman.

Lars narrowed his eyes, "you're lying."

"I'm not."

"I know you, Thulile. You wouldn't blurt out such a secret. What are you covering? It smells delicious. I want to taste this coffee."