1997 - STB WEEK 34

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The B/Q has never been more alive. And when I say alive I mean smacked down-side-up. Jade, my best friend of twenty years, and I are in the middle of a colossal mess which is the attached mini-bungalow at the back of my childhood home.

The whole place is a disaster but what do I expect when a building is neglected for over ten years? We moved out earlier than that and now I find myself here again trying to salvage it and turn it into what I hope would be a successful YouTube Studio.

Jade is sipping some form of iced coffee while giving me a dazed look. I raise a brow,
"What?"

She shrugs and the ceiling gives a soft creak before the center dips, right above her head. She shakes her head and leaves her spot to join me.

"Livy, this is a freak show. I don't see us cleaning up this place in", she pauses and waves her hand frantically, "years!"

"It'll take two months tops. We already spent enough money on acquiring equipment, Jay. We can't afford to rent and this place is far back and sound proof against noise. So, it is our best and only option."

She sighs and gives a pout. After a moment of sulking, we get back to sorting out the whole canyon of mess. We pick out many trashed books from our younger years and even toys. We laugh and reminisce over them. We are halfway through what is supposed to be the living room when Jade calls my attention.

When I lift my head, she's holding papers in her hand and there's a box by her feet, just beneath where her hands stay poised with her elbows placed on her knees. Her brows are drawn.

"What's up?" I traipsed toward her.

"These are letters." She says, still not looking at me.

"Okay...?"

"From a certain Betsy."

Still not making sense, "uh huh?"

"And she wrote to your father."

"Jade-"

"She addressed him as 'my love'". This time she looks at me when she finishes that sentence.

I snatch one of them from her,

"My love,
I haven't heard from you in a while. I know you would tell me I am overthinking things but it has been three months. Why wouldn't you write to me?
I have good news. I finally was able to apply for that loan and it is being processed. Would you please write me back? There is a lot I want to tell you. Or call me. You haven't done that in a while either.
P.S Nathan misses you too.
With all the love,
Betsy.

I glance at the top right of the letter and it says, Virginia. My whole family is rooted in Port Hacourt, Nigeria. I take another letter from her hand, still standing,

"My love,
I bought it! I bought the land. We did it!!! I know. I know. This isn't something I should be telling over a letter. But I have no other way to reach you. I would really love to hear your voice again. I miss you terribly and you only write me like once a month. Could you not give me your number? There is a lot of work to be done and I really need you. This is what we dreamed of right? Starting our own business? Write me back soon? I love you."
With all the love,
Betsy."

I look at the date and it says August 15th, 1997 and the previous one said June 20th. I plant my ass on the seat close to my best friend and together we sift through the letters. She mostly fills it up with how much she misses him and the Nathan name is mentioned more than once. Then it progresses and she gives him progress report on her coffee plantation.

With help, she built a small bungalow and was comfortable enough to hire more hands as time passed. The business sailed and there were hiccups like in all business ventures but she always found a breakthrough and settled all her debts. I and Jade browsed through the letters that went from always crooning for love to tell tale signs of regret and anger. He was being evasive and she was getting tired of waiting for him to return.

I always knew my father studied overseas but this...I never saw this coming. The next letter is dated September 21st, 2011. There is a photo attached to it this time. A boy with dirty blonde hair and golden-brown skin. His eyes are deep blue and his smile seems forced. The letter read,

"Nathan turned fourteen today,"

She'd stopped with the 'my love' a long time ago and now, I am more than curious as to who this Nathan guy is.

"Uhhh. Why does this boy look like your father?" Jade's voice breaks through my thoughts.

The air leaves my lungs and I freeze. My eyes automatically zoom in and like a revelation, bits and pieces of my father assemble before me. My dad is a man in his sixties and balding. Yet, you could tell he was quite the looker in his youth. This boy is seated in a wooden recliner, his hair over his eyes with a barely there smile. But as I look closer, that smile morphs into one my father gives when he finds something amusing but it's not.

My heart pounds in my ribcage as I consume the remaining contents of the letter,

"I finally get it. Our ship has sailed. I won't bother you anymore. But at least, have the guts to own up to your mistakes and face your son-" I drop the letter, shock chilling my veins.

"Oh my God." Jade says beside me. I do a quick mental calculation. The letters all backdated from 1997. She said he was fourteen which means, he'll be twenty-six. I'm twenty-two!

"Livy..." Jade calls hesitantly. I can barely breathe.

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