CHAPTER 22: THE CALL TO RELATO

 

Narrated by Mapaseka Mokoena

I woke up feeling restless and hollow. The morning sun streamed through my curtains, but it brought no warmth. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the dream over and over in my mind. Hands on my body, lips on my skin and voice in my ear.

"Ngiyakuthanda. I love you, Mapaseka."

I pressed my palms against my eyes and my lips parted with a sound.

I whispered. "I am losing my mind."

I threw the covers off and got out of bed. I went through the motions of my morning routine, shower, coffee, getting dressed—but my mind was elsewhere. I could not focus on anything except the growing ache in my chest. By the time I got to work, I was useless.

I sat at my desk, staring at my laptop screen, and accomplished absolutely nothing. The numbers on my spreadsheet blurred together. I spent the whole morning checking my phone every five minutes.

By lunchtime, I could not take it anymore. I picked up my phone and called the one person who always knew what to say.

Relato answered on the second ring.

"Hebanna!, Mapaseka, It has been days since you called me!"

I sighed. "Relato, I need your help."

"Help? What kind of help? Are you okay? What happened?"

"I am losing my mind," I admitted. "Over a man."

There was a pause, then Relato burst out laughing.

“ Yoh! Mapaseka Mokoena losing her mind over a man? This I have to hear! Tell me everything. Start from the beginning. Do not leave out any details."

I took a deep breath and told her everything. About the date, the way he danced with me. The agonising silence since then. By the time I finished, Relato was silent for a long moment.

"Hebanna, Mapaseka!" she said. "Are you telling me that, that Zulu mechanic—the one you keep saying is 'not your type'—has you blushing like a schoolgirl and checking your phone fifty times a day?"

"Yes," I said quietly. "That is exactly what I am telling you."

"And you did not tell me this earlier because...?"

"Because I was embarrassed," I admitted. "I was supposed to hate him. I was supposed to push him away. He is not my type, Relato. "

"Mapaseka, listen to me," Relato said, her voice softening. "I know you have your list. I know you have your standards. But that man—he did something no other man has done. He made you feel alive. He made you forget about the list. And now you are sitting here, tortured, because he has not called you?"

"Exactly," I whispered. "I do not know what to do."

"Haibo, Mapaseka. You are a businesswoman. You close million-rand deals. You face down hostile clients without blinking. And you are scared to call a man who clearly wants you?"

"It is different," I said. "Business is easy. Men are complicated."

"Men are not complicated," Relato said firmly. "You are making it complicated. Let me ask you something. When you were on that date, did he seem interested in you?"

"Yes," I admitted. "Very interested."

"Did he look at you like he wanted to kiss you?"

"Yes."

"Then why are you sitting here waiting for him to call?"

I was quiet.

"Mapaseka, you judged this man before you even knew him. You mocked him. You made him feel small, he did not give up. He asked you out anyway and you agreed—reluctantly. Maybe he is scared, Mapaseka. Maybe he thinks you are going to reject him again.”

"I know," I said guiltily.

I felt a knot form in my stomach.

"He said it was just one date," I said. "He said if he bored me, we would not date again."

"Exactly," Relato said. "He gave you an out. He made it easy for you to walk away. He was protecting himself because he knew you were judging him from the moment you met."

"So... what do I do?"

"You reach out to him," Relato said simply. "Show him that you are interested and you are not the cold, judgmental woman he thinks you are."

"I am scared," I admitted. "What if he rejects me? What if he was just being nice?"

"Mapaseka, that man booked an entire restaurant for you. He is not going to reject you."

I took a deep breath.

"Okay," I said slowly. "I will call him."

"Good," Relato said. "Call him right now."

I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at the screen.

"I cannot," I said. "What do I even say? I do not even know where he works."

Relato was quiet for a moment.

"Okay," she said. "Here is what we will do. I will call him. I will pretend my car needs fixing. I will get his workshop address from him. Then I will send it to you."

"Really? You would do that for me?"

"Mapaseka, I would do anything for you," Relato said. "You are my best friend and if this man makes you happy, then I want to help you find him."

"But what will you say?"

"I will say I got his number from a friend," Relato said. "I will tell him my car has been making a strange noise and I need a good mechanic. Then I will ask for the address to his work place. Simple."

"You are a genius," I said.

"I know," Relato said, laughing. "Now let me do this. I will call him right now and text you the address."

I felt a wave of gratitude wash over me.

"Thank you, Relato. I do not know what I would do without you."

"You would probably still be sitting in your apartment, staring at your phone," she teased. "Now wait for my message."

I hung up.

Twenty minutes later, my phone buzzed.

I grabbed it immediately. It was Relato.

Relato: "Got it!  Q Squared Mechanics! 115 Abert Street”