7—The Convoy.

Folarin leapt to his feet just as there was a pounding on the door. He raced to the door and pulled it open, and a frantic Tayo Ajose stood there.

“You didn't call back, and I—" he must have spied her on the couch because he walked in.

“Hi Dad,” she waved from her perch. “I'm alive and well, as you can see.”

“Oh, thank God.” He raced to her and dropped to his knees before her. Hugging her to himself, his bald head reflecting the overhead light.

“I'm okay, Dad.”

“Our baby?” He moved away and framed her stomach.

“I think so, he did squeeze my stomach hard—"

“I'm calling the doctor,” he said, getting up on his feet. He paced as he pulled his phone out of his bag.

Folarin stood at the entryway, looking embarrassed and a little vulnerable.

“Sorry, I didn't call back Tayo,” he said as Dad dialled her doctor. “I was just—”

“It's fine. I get it. My daughter is a handful.” Dad waved Folarin's apologies away like they didn't matter.

Folarin nodded his agreement.

“Dad!” She glared at him, then turned the glare to Folarin. Where was the support when she needed it?

“He's not lying,” He shrugged.

She rolled her eyes and drank her tea. Handful ko, mouthful ni. She hissed mentally. She was not a handful; she groused and took a big sip. Almost burned her tongue in the process. She swallowed the pain. Not ready to give them more ammunition to prove that she was indeed a handful.

“She's on her way.”

“Dad!” She scolded. “You can't pull her out of the office. I'm sure it's fine.”

“Last I checked, you were a project manager, not a doctor. How are you sure my baby is fine?”

“Your baby?”

“My first grandchild,”

“You're not her father.”

“Might as well be,” he mumbled.

“You said?”

"Nothing dear," he said, sitting beside her and patting her hand twice. She rolled her eyes again.

If these guys kept going like this, she was going to roll her eyes until they popped out of their sockets. She imagined her eyes rolling out of their sockets and plopping on the ground. The image pulled a horrified laugh from her.

“What's funny?” Folarin asked

“Nothing,” she gave him a smug smile and sipped her tea. Let him wonder what the joke was about.

Folarin ordered food from the apartment's restaurant while they awaited the doctor. They enjoyed their Chinese food while Ara stuck to rice and stew. She didn't want to be checking which foods were safe to eat and which weren't, so she just skipped Chinese altogether.

The doctor and the tech guy arrived together after the meal was completed and the plates were in the dishwasher. Folarin took her phone and other electronic devices, including her watch. She was going to ask him to take her electric toothbrush too when Dad started narrating the issue to her doctor.

Doctor Antonia smiled at Dad and moved to her. “Is everything okay?” She asked softly.

Mide nodded, feeling a sob coming on. It suddenly felt serious. Worrying Folarin was one thing, worrying her dad was another. But her doctor, the one in charge of keeping her baby healthy until she was ready to burst out of her. That was a whole different situation.

“Why don't you describe everything that happened?” Dr. Antonia pulled out a notepad and a stethoscope.

A hush fell on the room as she started narrating and describing the squeezing and her fear that it might harm the baby. Her hard stop, him throwing her to Folarin like she was a bag of potatoes. By the time the story was over, she was crying again, tears streaming down her face unchecked as she tried to stay composed. Stay fine.

“It's okay, darling,” Dr. Antonia smiled, went through the paces, jotted down a few things, and frowned. “I need to get her to the hospital.”

“Is everything okay?” Dad looked concerned, worried.

“Mother is okay, but we don't know how the baby is really doing until we see for ourselves,”

Dad nodded.

“Has the baby moved since the incident?” Dr. Antonia whispered.

Aramide shook her head, worry squeezing at her chest. She wrapped her hands around the bump.

“Folarin,” Tayo called. Folarin emerged from the room where he and his tech guy had been.

“Everything okay?”

“Doc needs to get Mide to the hospital,” Tayo frowned. “Is it safe? Can we risk it?”

“We will make sure it's safe,” he assured. “I just need to make some phone calls and put some things in place. We moved in twenty minutes, is that okay, Doc?”

The doctor nodded and took a seat beside Aramide, patting her hand just like her Dad had done a few minutes ago. But Aramide was not reassured; she felt stupid all over again. She had thrown a tantrum like a child, like a teenager running away from home with no backup plan.

All of this could have been avoided—all of this.

Folarin must have sensed her agitation because he walked over with the phone pressed to his ear and pecked her forehead absentmindedly. Like it was something he always did. “You're okay, the baby will be okay. Stop worrying,” he whispered against her forehead, his breath lifting wisps of her hair.

Then he was gone. She felt herself relax a little until she locked eyes with Dad and met his amused gaze. “What?” she mouthed at him.

“Nothing,” he mouthed back. Then started making outrageous kissy faces at her. She laughed, unable to help herself. He was so immature that man, she called her father. She knew what he was doing, and she loved him for it.

He visibly relaxed and gave her his everything will be okay smile. She relaxed and prepared to wait.

Twenty minutes went by in a hurried conversation, and they were down the elevator and out of the house in an armoured car. Cruising to the hospital with a police convoy like some important dignitary was in the car.

She placed her hand over her belly. It's all for you, baby, she thought. You're not even here yet, and so many people already love you. She relaxed against her seat and promptly fell asleep.

Time flew by without her knowledge. Aramide woke up to a very cold sensation stinging her belly. She looked up at a white ceiling and looked around, cataloguing equipment and people. Three people, minus herself, were in the hospital room.

All three wore worried expressions and stared at the monitor.

“Good, you're awake,” Dr. Antonia smiled at her. “You can hear the baby's heartbeat,”

Then she turned up the volume, and a loud swooshing filled the air. Aramide felt tears fill her eyes again; her baby was okay.

“So everything is okay?” Ara finally asked.

“Everything is fine,” Dr Antonia paused. “Do you want to know the gender?”

“Can we find out now?”

“Yes,” she smiled.

Ara thought about it and looked at her Dad, and Folarin huddled together. Looking so much like father and son that it brought a big smile to her face.

“Thoughts?” she asked the group.

“Yes,” her dad smiled. “I'm all for finding out the gender now. But I'll respect whatever you want to do.”

“Same,” Folarin nodded.

Ara laughed. “I know,”

“I guess it's up to me to make a choice then,” Aramide pretended to think about. She felt light now that she knew her baby was okay. “Hmm, I do want to find out,” she heard her dad's loud exhale. “But not now,”

“Ahh,” Dad whined. She smirked.

“I gave you a choice to weigh in, and you said, and I quote,” Aramide cleared her throat. “I'll respect your choice,” she said in a fake baritone.

“This is me respecting your choice but feeling bad about it,” he raised his hands in surrender.

“Good. I think I'll plan a small get-together and do a reveal. Something simple.”

“Okay, doc,” she smiled. “I've decided. Give the envelope to that guy.” She pointed at Folarin.

“What?!” Her dad screamed. “This is what I get for loving you and—”

“Dad,” Aramide said with a scolding laugh. “He is just the custodian. He'll find out when we find out. I just don't trust you not to open it immediately.”

“I mean the suspense—” Dad started.

“—would kill you.” Folarin finished. “I think it would murder me.”

“You have restraint,” Ara argued.

“Not on this matter, I'm too curious,”

“Okay, I hear you and I—”

“I can't do it, Mide. Don't make me.” He pouted. He pouted. He was too cute.

The doctor laughed. “It has killed men with greater restraint. It's okay, it just means you care a lot. Why don't we just hold onto it and send it off to the person responsible for the reveal when you decide? I've seen cakes with blue or pink filling, and we sent it to the baker.”

“That can work,” Ara nodded. “Since the others are too wimpy.”

“Hey! You shouldn't judge us for caring a lot.” Dad parroted the doctor's words back to her.

“Yeah, Mide, don't judge us for caring a lot.” Folarin pantomimed.

She rolled her eyes at them.

“You are free to leave,” the doctor said, handing over a small towel to wipe the goo on her tummy. “I'll be in touch if I need to pass across any information.”

Aramide nodded and collected the wipe. She cleaned her stomach and sat up.

Folarin followed the doctor outside. “Ma, I have a few questions for you,” he said as the door closed behind them.

She swung her legs off the table and planted them to the side of the bed, waiting in case she felt dizzy. That was one thing pregnancy had taught her: she never got up too fast anymore.

She felt a little dizzy, and she waited a few minutes for the spell to pass.

“Let's go home,” she smiled at Folarin when he returned to the room.

“Tayo, should we drop you off?”

“No, I'm fine. I can find my way.”

“Dad, isn't your car at the complex?”

“No, I ordered a ride. I couldn't trust myself to drive in that condition.”

“Smart choice,”

“Okay, bye Dad,” Aramide hugged him and pecked his cheek.

“Don't give him wahala,” (Trouble)

“Dad, I would never,” she rolled her eyes.

“Sure, honey,”

She smacked his arm lightly and he laughed. Then they were off. They moved stealthily like a sting operation they got into the car and drove off with their convoy.