It'd been a while since I'd cooked anything. After investing all my energy at the hospital, there was none left to come home and make a meal. Whitney used to be the main chef in the house but now, she was spending more hours at the hospital. There was only so much takeout one could order without growing sick of it.

Now, I stood in my small kitchen, making spaghetti and fried chicken. Nicholas had turned up at my door and claimed he wanted to spend time, getting to know about me. I linked this sudden appearance as an attempt to initiate his promise to be more mindful of his actions. For the first time, I was bare-faced and had my natural hair out, around him. It was, after all, my home appearance; a huge t-shirt and loose shorts with my hair pulled up in a high puff. He sat on my counter and micromanaged every move I made like I was a child who needed to be watched and guided. Although, that only happened when he didn't have his head buried in his phone.

I closed the lid of my pot and allowed the sauce to simmer. I stepped away from the burner and rested an arm on my waist. "You do know that's not the best way to get to know me"

Nicholas looked up from his phone. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're mostly on your phone whenever we're together" I waved my cooking spoon at his phone. "You want to get to know me better, right? Nicholas, that won't happen if you're on your phone"

He nodded and placed his phone down beside him, on the counter. "If we are going to make this co-parenting work, we have to know what irks each other and what we fancy. I agree"

"Yeah"

"Okay, how about you ask me what you want to know about me and I'll do the same," he said

"Like the 'twenty questions' game?" I asked

He nodded. "Yeah, but we don't have to stop at twenty. And, you can call me Nick. You don't need to call me by my full name"

"Oh great. Nicholas was a mouthful for me" I chuckled as I clasped my hands together. "Okay, you go first"

While he tried to rack up questions for me, I took the opportunity to check on my sauce. Some steam hit my face as I opened the lid. The sauce bubbled at the top and the aroma filled the air, I stirred the pot and scoop a tiny bit to taste. I held out the spoon to Nicholas to have a taste, for a second opinion.

He looked confused for a moment then searched for a tablespoon to taste it.

"Just swipe your finger across the spoon" I pushed the spoon towards him and with slight hesitation, he did as I said.

"It's good," he nodded and took another swipe.

I poured my already parboiled spaghetti into the sauce, added a little water, and stirred it till the sauce was evenly spread out on the spaghetti. I closed the pot and increased the flame a tad bit.

"Okay, go ahead," I turned back to him.

"Let's start with the basics. What's your favourite colour?" he hopped down from the counter and leaned against it.

I picked up a bowl of cooked chicken and placed it on the counter, near the stove burner. "Brown. All shades of brown. I love how they come out on fabrics. What about you?"

"Is that your question for me?"

I fished out a deep fry pan from one of the bottom cupboards. "Well, no but you can't ask a question like that and not expect me to want to know your answer." I rinsed out the pan in the sink. "We're both getting to know each other"

"You're right. Okay, for every question asked, we'd both answer it" His phone vibrated and the screen came alive. He peered at the over his shoulder and clicked it off. "I'm not sure I have a favourite colour. I prefer dark colours"

I nodded. "Thought as much. I immediately thought black or deep green"

He crossed his arms over his chest. The sleeves of his grey button-up shirt strained and defined his upper arm muscles. "Why? I don't come across someone who'd like bright colours?"

I shrugged my shoulder and opened an overhead cupboard. "You don't exactly have a bright personality." I stood on my toes and reached for a bottle of groundnut oil.

Nicholas stepped up behind me and brought down the oil bottle. "You know you can just ask for help," He handed the bottle over to me.

"I will, next time. Thank you" I placed the bottle on the counter, next to the bowl of chicken and checked on the spaghetti. "What's your favourite food?"

He shrugged his shoulder. "I don't really have one. I'm not picky, I could eat anything." Like father, like son.

"But I guess, I fancy Italian food more since I spent the early stages of my life in Italy" he added.

"Wait, you lived in Italy?" I asked

"Ah-ah," he clicked his tongue and wagged his fingers in the air. "You need to answer your own question first"

"Oh okay, it's a Nigerian dish. It's called Eba which is made from cassava flour and Egusi soup is made from melon seeds with a lot of meat. Now answer my previous question" I said and moved the pot of spaghetti to a cool burner and replaced it with the pan.

"You won't let that go, would you?"

"Nope," I said as a matter of fact.

"So I moved to Italy when I was around four years old with my mum. She wanted me to get to learn about my Italian side. We lived with my grandparents- her parents for some years till I was about to enter high school and then we moved back." He narrated.

"Wow, what about your dad? Did he move with you guys?" I asked

"No, he was still growing the business at the time so he stayed back. He did visit frequently because after we moved, my mom found she was pregnant with my sister, Evelyn" he explained.

"Oh," I nodded and turned back to the pan. The excess water droplets had dried off so I picked up the bottle of oil and poured a generous amount into it.

"So, do you eat it frequently?"

"Eat what?" I turned away from the cooker.

"Your Eba and Egusi" the words forced their way out of his mouth in a rushed manner.

"My what?" I hunched over and placed my hands on my knees to prevent me from toppling over as I chortled.

The way he pronounced the words, sounded like 'iba' and 'igusi'. It was so weird coming out of his mouth. I attempted to straighten up but the unamused expression on his face made me retract back to the former. I placed one hand on my belly and burst into another bout of laughter.

"Sorry... sorry," I wheezed out, holding my hand to him. "Your pronunciation was terrible,"

He crossed his arms and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I'm glad to be of service as your source of entertainment," his words dripping with sarcasm.

"Sorry," I waved a hand at him and slapped the other over my mouth. The air began to feel choked up and cloudy. I turned to the burner and noticed the oil had begun to smoke up. "Ewo!" I lowered the flames and moved the pan, away from the heat.

Nicholas came up behind me and pulled me away from the cooker. "What are you trying to do?"

I waved the smoky air away from my face as I leaned against an opposite counter. "To fry the chicken"

He peered into the chicken bowl then unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up. "I'll do it. Just stay there"

"Are you sure?" I walked up behind him as he moved the pan back unto the low flames.

"Yes. Now you just –"he walked me back to the counter on the other end of the kitchen. One second I had my back against the counter, the next I was being lifted unto the counter's tiled slab. "– sit here. Okay?"

Oop, okay. I couldn't think to speak with him being wedged between my legs and our faces, inches apart so I nodded. He walked back to the cooker and I shut my legs and rested a palm against my fast-pumping chest. The smoky air had cleared but it still felt stuffy as I inhaled and exhaled. Uhm... uh, what were we talking about again?

I cleared my throat and swallowed. "To answer your question, I don't eat it often. Uh – because it's not grown out here and it has to be shipped in from Nigeria. When it does get here, it becomes really expensive. I only go out to have it when I want to treat myself."

"Fu—"Nick hissed and stepped back as the oil popped and splattered at the first contact with the juicy piece of chicken.

I slid forward to the edge of the counter. "Are you sure you don't need me to take over?"

He made a sharp turn in my direction and pointed the spatula at me. "Stay there"

"Okay," I raised my hands up in mock surrender then slid back in.

He lowered the flame, picked up the chicken bowl as a shield and added other pieces into the oil. He maintained a safe distance from the pan but was still close enough to flip the pieces of chicken around. "So, what do you do for fun, other than being a doctor?"

"Uh . . ." I racked my brain for anything fun I spent my extra time on but came up short. If I wasn't working, I was brushing up on work, reading medical journals, or updating my notes. I wasn't really an outdoor person of sorts. "I like reality shows. Mm-hmm, I spend my free time, watching dating shows, Nigerian movies and short comedy sitcoms"

He had his back to me, working on the chicken. "I like to design buildings and paint on occasions"

"Designing? Isn't that what you do already?"

He picked up the clean flat plate, I'd put out for the chicken and began to place well-fried pieces unto it. "No, I don't design. I handle the administrative aspect of the company. You know, bid for bigger projects and oversee project progress, stuff like that"

I slid down from the counter as he turned off the cooker and I took the plate out of his hands. "Thank you," I placed the plate down on a counter and covered it with another plate. "It's basically your company, why don't you just design if you like doing it"

He shrugged his shoulders as he moved over to the sink. "I don't know. It's just a hobby, I'm not an accredited designer. It's not like I studied architecture or anything"

"Well, you could, if you want to. It's never too late to pursue it" I pulled out two flat ceramic plates from the dish rack. I wiped the surface with a clean dish cloth and began to dish spaghetti on them.

"Did you always want to be a doctor?" he came to stand behind me and took the spaghetti and chicken-filled plates off my hands. He headed out into the living room and I trailed after him.

"As a matter a fact, I did. For as long as I can remember, I've always known I'll be a doctor" He placed the plates on the small dining table. Whitney and I never really used it. We would rather eat on the sofa, in front of the TV. "I've had this big dream to run a hospital back in Nigeria. The medical facilities in some areas of the country are just straight-up appalling and that's why I've always worked hard. Plus, I have a family that's counting on me to make them proud"

"That's one huge dream" he pulled out my chair before his own.

"Thank you," I said as I sat down. "I know. Can I be honest with you?"

He looked up from his plate. "Sure"

"When I found out I was pregnant, I was really devastated – don't get me wrong, I'm happy right now. But months back, I wasn't even sure I wanted to keep the baby – not like abortion. I was considering an adoption up until you showed up. I couldn't juggle providing for a baby, myself and my student loans." a knot began to form within the walls of my throat. I decided not to delve into the matter further before tears welled up in my eyes. I cleared my throat. "I still feel guilty about it"

"You shouldn't feel guilty. It doesn't matter what you thought before, what matters is what you think right now." He placed a hand over mine on the table. "I can tell that you want and love this baby, that's all that matters"

I nodded and blinked back any traitor tears. I let out a small chuckle as I looked up to the ceiling, dabbing my eyelids. "Thank you"

He nodded and released my other hand. "Let's eat"

"Yup" I took a forkful of hot spaghetti into my mouth. I waited till I swallowed before speaking up again.

"So, speaking of the baby, we need to talk about how this co-parenting thing would work. I mean, I'll obviously go back to work once he's born. And as much as I'd hate to leave him in a stranger's care, we'd need to get a nanny"

"When we get to that point, we could let my parents watch him. I'm sure my mom would love to tend to him more than a nanny" Nick said

My fork hung in the air as I gave him a blank stare. "You're kidding, right?"

"I'm not, actually. Look, I know you and my mom might've gotten off on the wrong foot but she would never hurt her own grandchild. She has watched Evelyn's daughter at some point" he said

Wrong foot, my big bum.

I licked off the spice from my lips as I dropped my fork unto my plate. "Nick, I don't want to be disrespectful to you but I don't care whose child she's taken care of. Your mom will not watch our son without any of us present, I'm sorry"

He leaned back against his chair, aghast. "That's –"

I held up my hand and shook my head. "This is not up for discussion. Look, we're having a really nice time, so let's not ruin it by having a fight. I'm not saying your mum won't be a part of her grandson's life. All I'm saying is until she stops being hostile toward me and apologizes, I can't leave her alone with my son. I'm sorry if that offends you but that's what's going to happen"

He raked through his hair and his jaw clenched as he looked away. He released a deep breath and returned his gaze to mine. "I hear you,"

"Thank you" I whispered.

We finished up our meals in silence. Just before Nick stood to leave, he handed me a black card. My eyes bulge out when I realized it was an American express centurion card. Now this card, I only had in my dreams when I was brain-deep in sleep. I couldn't even believe I was holding one right now in my hands. I held it with so much delicacy as if my hands would crush it.

"What's this for?" I looked up at him.

"I want you to hold onto it. Plus, you need to get a dress. There's a charity fundraiser event I have this weekend and I was hoping you'd accompany me, as my plus one"

My lips parted and I gaped at him, like a fish out of water. "What? Wait, hold on... you want me to hold onto this?" I raised the card up to him. "No, I can't do that. Secondly, you didn't ask if I wanted to go to this event."

"Would you like to come with me to the fundraiser, please?" he shifted his weight to his other foot.

"I – uh"

He pushed my jaw shut and patted my chin. "Think about it and get back to me," he glanced at his wristwatch then back at me. "I have to leave now. Don't be afraid to get whatever you want." He pointed at the card in my hands and headed for the front door.

"What? Nick! No," I followed after him. "I thought we agreed to ease up on things like this"

He stopped in the centre of the doorway. "This is my way of doing that. I'll send you the access codes later" he couldn't mask the satisfied grin on his face as he waved a dumbstruck me, goodbye.

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