Death and Shopping.

"Lydia, How could you!" A disgruntled looking Linda cries out and the blushing bride to be has the decency to look away sheepishly.

We are at our favourite meeting joint seeping taking a milkshake or two. I stir my chocolate expresso milkshake and lick the rest off the straw before turning my eyes on the pair with a hint of amusement on my lips.

"And I thought we were friends! I treated you like a daughter and this is what you do to me?"

From the way Linda is going on, you'd think that Lydia's committed the most heinous crime there is, but no, all she did was keep quiet. Not at a murder trial that lead to the electrocution of the innocent falsely accused victim, but about her relationship status. From the way her lips are moving, I can tell that she's at loss for words and as much as I felt like strangling the annoying couple, I jump in to her rescue.

"Just let her be...the girl is too distraught to even answer you." A tell her disgruntled employer.

"Distraught? More of ashamed of her actions. I think a fitting punishment would be that she allow us to spoil her for the duration of the period." Linda answers me back and I raise my eyebrows at her.

"That's hardly a punishment!" I laugh.

"It is. Right now, she's dying to tell me that it is not necessary, but I am fashioning both her and David with their outfits for the Ruracio." Linda tells me with a wink that Lydia misses as she is still playing with her fingers on the table top.

True to form, immediately Lydia hears that, she snaps her head up and looks at us, her mouth open and ready to protest.

"See...I told you." Linda tells me and I laugh again. "She thinks that she's being modest, but I call it pride"

"How so?" Lydia asks her so called employer sounding every bit irritated.

"You're too proud to accept my gift." Linda replies and her assistant scowls back at her.

"You know, I've never thought about it that way, but it does make sense." I tell them and I mean it. I used to think that declining a gift was being modest, but in reality it was a form of false humility. I think back to what my father told me when Troy had gifted me the house and I shake my head with a silent laugh. Age did breed wisdom and it is refreshing to think that kind of knowledge is universal. Wether you're tacked away in a small town Australia or in a big city in Africa, it's all the same. Wisdom that is.

"She's got you there, Lydia. Just let us spoil you and all will be forgiven." I add, this time directing my remarks to the grumpy and harassed looking assistant. In response, Lydia draws out a defeated sigh and bows her head with a pout on her lips.

"Fine!"

"Great, where should we start?" Linda claps hands in excitement and what I am sure is a smug smile attached to her face.

"I saw a shop with some great African print dresses around that corner." I tell them pointing out of the restaurant.

"Even better. On your feet Lydia!" She says standing up. "Time to get you all dolled up!"

Lydia  groans besides us and I pat her back with a laugh. She frowns at my smile and turns away, looking so miserable you'd think that we were planning her funeral.

"Cheer up!" I encourage her.

"Why? I am beginning to regret..."

"Not telling us?" I cut her off and she glares back at me.

"No. I regret ever telling you two anything. I should have waited until we got married and then you'd know from the rings!" She snaps back and I mimic a look of horror.

"Lydia! How could you? You'd deny me the opportunity to spoil my brother and business partner during his marriage?"

Her glare turns into a frown and I know that I have won her over.

"Smile and try to have some fun. If it's any comfort, I'll make sure that Linda reserves you right to be a bridezilla, okay?"

She looks at me with such a grateful look you'd think that Linda was a usurper, but then again, they have their very own very weird relationship dynamic and who knows what happens there.

"Hey, you two. Are you coming or what?" Linda shouts from a shop's entrance and several faces turned our way.

"Hold your horses. We're coming!" Lydia yells back and I shake my head at them, making sure to send apologetic glances at the passers-by, due to the unorthodox behaviour of my present company.

"What do you think? I like this." Linda says, once we join her, pointing to a white silk and african print dress that is hanging over a hanger."

"The Kitenge fabric is green." Lydia says pointing to the African print sections. " and I am looking for something orange or yellow."

"How typical." Linda says with a deriding smile and I turn to face Lydia with a question on my face.

"It's a general assumption out there, that people from my tribe are drawn to those colours." Lydia explains to me.

"Are they?" I ask her.

"What do you think?" She answers my question with a question and walks off before I can protest.

After looking around for a while, we find nothing with Lydia's specifications and Linda makes a call to a certain designer whom she knows and she assures her that she has the fabric our little bride is looking for.

"To town then?" Lydia nods and we head out of the shop to where the cars are parked in the mall's parking lot.

"I am not driving with her." Lydia affirms strongly as she walks over to the passenger side of Camilla, the white porsche that Troy gifted me.

"Whyever not?" Linda asks stopping by the door of her new Lexus.

"You're a bully and I want some peace or any semblance of it. So I am going to travel with Attara."

"Fine, be that way." Her employer says dismissively as she enters her car to drive off. I wait for Lydia to get settled down before starting up Camilla. After that I pull out of the parking lot and follow Linda's Lexus out of the mall and into the afternoon traffic.

"When is wedding?" I ask, just to fill in the quiet that has settled inside the vehicle.

"Six months or so from the Ruracio."

"Since it's now May, I assume that will be in November?"

"Probably, but David favours a September wedding. Since I wouldn't want it to be in a rainy month, I am more inclined to agree with him."

"Makes sense." I answer back maneuvering Camilla through the lanes in the highway "So, four months."

She nods.

"The six month mark is more of a deadline."

"Good. So, where will the wedding be? I hear it's always good to book the venues and church early."

"Yea. I'm a personal assistant so believe me when I tell you that I know all about that." I smile remembering Linda's tendency of throwing parties every now and then. " Unlike the Ruracio and  the Itaara that will have to happen at our respective homes, we agreed to have the wedding here in Nairobi since we both work here. As for the caterers and decor people I already have them on hand. The problem now is the venue."

"Oh, " my brows furrow in concern. "Where did you have in mind?"

"I wanted a church wedding with a garden reception. Of course, the church venue is not going to be an issue, but the reception grounds are a real problem especially since schools will be on in September."  She tells me with a tired look.

"Don't worry. Let me handle that for you." I reassure her pulling up into a parking lot behind Linda's car.

"Attara...but that's a lot to ask from you."

"No. It's the least that I can do after how you helped me settle in. Plus David is my partner and he's helps me make millions. So, paying for the grounds is a really small thing compared to what you've done for me. Infact, I want to pay for the grounds and the food. How is that?"

"Attara..." she croaks out with grateful tears in her eyes.

"Don't mention it." I smile back. "If it makes you feel better, I let you spoil me at my own wedding."

"So you're going to say yes?" She asks with a twinkle in her eyes.

"What?" I ask with a confused look on my face.

"Oh, nothing. Never mind me. I was just rumbling." She says with an uncomfortable laugh and I stare back at her suspiciously. When she refuses to come forth with more information, I decide to let it go and instead focus on the task at hand.

#

I drive back to my Kitisuru home still excited about the prospects of the coming months and David's upcoming wedding. I'm a daydreamer, there's no doubt about that and as I pull up into the carport within my home compound, I smile at the vision of Troy leaning over the railing of the balcony of his second floor bedroom as looks down at me.

"Hey," I greet him moving to the posterior of the car in order to retrieve my day's shopping.

"Hi, how was your day?" He calls back, smiling at how I am struggling with my numerous bags of shopping.

"Great! We met Lydia..."

"And let me guess! You tortured the heck out of that poor girl." He says his amusement showing in his startling green eyes.

"Whitemore!" I scowl back at him, feigning displeasure as I straighten myself up from my bent over position over Camilla's trunk. "We did not torture her." I tell him pointedly as my hands come to rest on my waist. "We just spoiled her to death." I finish and the scowl is replaced with my sweetest smile.

"Death and shopping. How fitting for you Lady Whitemore." The man chuckles and I frown back at him.

"You say that as if it's a bad thing. Anyways, I also brought you something, Somethings?"  I muse as I turn back into the trunk to retrive the rest of the shopping. "I believe you've never worn a Kitenge or Leso out fit." I ask him, straightening up to shut Camilla's trunk.

"No." He shakes his head at me. " I have no idea what you are talking about?"

"Well then, you now have a set and..." I pretend to be remembering something. "Ah Yes! We are also paying for their wedding reception."

Troy's eyes widen at me and I can't help but smile back.

"We?" He asks with raised eyebrows.

"You wound me Lord Whitemore. I thought we were some sort of entity?" I say with such mock dejection that he bursts out laughing.

"Well, my dear lady. Why don't you come up and we'll discuss that." He says, straightening himself up to walk back into his room. I nod at his retreating form and begin to walk towards the house, my bags weighing me down with every step that I make.