Chapter Nineteen
"Aunty! Tega!" Michael's cousin called out as she ran over to meet them while Michael got into the driver's seat quickly in a bid to avoid the talk.
Amara's heart dropped when she heard the pastor's wife's voice, and she got into the car, hoping to avoid her.
Although what happened between them was two years ago, she couldn't help feeling a bit resentful towards the woman.
The pastor's wife paused when she got to the car and saw Amara seated in the backseat while Michael's mother stood by the open door.
"Ah! Sister Amara, long time no see. I thought you had left. I was looking for you and was told you had left already."
"Good afternoon, ma," Amara greeted politely, even though she would have preferred to ignore her totally.
"Elohor, you know Amara, too?" Michael's mother asked her niece, curious to know if she had any hand in Michael's relationship with Amara.
"Yes, aunty. Sister Amara is our old member. How did you and Michael know Amara?" She asked, looking at Michael, who was pretending to be busy on his phone.
Michael tried to mask his disapproval as he looked at her, but his mother spoke first before he could say anything.
"She is Michael's friend. And my friend too," Michael's mother said with a wide smile.
"Michael, is she your friend? How? Since when?" Michael's cousin asked, looking from Michael to Amara and back again.
"Don't you people have a sisters' meeting? Shouldn't you be there?" Michael asked, already regretting his decision to bring Amara to his church.
He would not have bothered convincing her to come to church if he had known any of this would happen.
"Mummy Dele and sister Faith, the sisters are waiting for you to join the meeting," a lady called out from the church entrance, to Michael's relief.
"Aunty, I will come and see you later with the starch and owho that I promised to make for you. Amara, I hope I will see you in church for the weekly activity. We need to talk," she said before walking away with the other lady.
"Can we go now?" Michael asked again, sounding more impatient now.
"Better put your mouth down o. Don't shout at me. I have a car too. Not one but two," his mother replied as she joined Amara in the backseat.
Amara laughed silently as she adjusted in the backseat, leaving room for Michael's mother to sit down.
Michael scowled when he caught her laughing through the rearview mirror, and then he frowned when he realized his mother was sitting in the backseat.
"Mummy, are you not sitting in front?"
"No. I want to sit down in the backseat with Amara while we talk," she said, and Michael sighed but said nothing as he started the car.
"So, my dear Amara, how did you and Michael meet?" Michael's mother asked, to his dismay.
He glanced at Amara through the rearview mirror since she was sitting directly behind his seat, and she met his gaze.
He tried to signal her with his eyes not to tell his mother anything, but she looked away.
"Mummy, me and Pastor Michael don't have any kind of relationship. He is just someone who helped me. Last night I was almost used for rituals…"
"Ritual?! Blood of Jesus!" She exclaimed.
"Yes, ma. I ran away from them and met him at the church I ran to for safety. So he helped me. That's how I know him," she said simply, not bothering to say they knew each other before then.
"Oh. That's it?" she asked, sounding slightly disappointed.
"Yes, ma. That is just it," Amara said, glancing back at Michael.
"So, which people wanted to use you for ritual? What happened?" Michael's mother asked, curious to hear the story.
As Michael drove, he listened and kept looking at the rearview mirror, curious to hear the kind of story that Amara would tell his mother.
Amara hesitated for a moment, wondering whether to tell the woman the truth or lie to her.
The woman had been nice to her and had even gone as far as buying her a Bible.
What was the worst that could come from telling her the truth? It wasn't like the woman was going to be her mother-in-law or anything like that in the future.
Besides, how was she sure Michael wouldn't tell his mother the truth later when they got home?
Amara looked slightly embarrassed. "I went for hookup," she confessed, and Michael's heart nearly jumped out of his chest.
For God's sake!!! Why would she give that sort of information to his mother? Why did she need to hear about her sordid past?
"Hook up?" Michael's mother asked, her voice was the same.
Soft, friendly, and not judgmental.
Assuming that the woman didn't understand what she meant, she nodded. "Yes, ma. Prostitution. That was why I left the church. I backslid," Amara admitted.
"Oh dear," she said softly, and then, to Amara's surprise, she reached out to embrace her.
Michael scoffed inwardly. He knew his mother was reacting this way because she believed Amara was just a convert. If he mistakenly told her that God asked him to marry Amara, he was sure she would throw Amara out of the car.
"God must love you so much to have saved you last night. And the fact that you openly told me something like this without lying has made me love you, too. Let's talk more when we get to the house. I'm curious to hear all about you and your story," Michael's mother said when she pulled away, and Amara nodded.
Amara glanced at Michael through the rearview mirror and saw him staring at her again. She couldn't help but wonder why he kept looking at her that way.
Soon, they arrived at Michael's compound, and his mother led Amara inside. As she walked in, she couldn't help but admire his apartment.
There was no doubt that he was wealthy. How did such a young man become so rich? Amara wondered. Maybe his family was wealthy.
"Sit down, my dear. What do you want to drink? We have soft drinks, Hollandia, exotic juice, soya milk, and even wine," Michael's mother offered.
Did they sell drinks here? Amara mused, wondering why they would have so many drinks.
"I'm fine, ma," Amara said with a polite smile, even though she was tempted by all the drinks that had been mentioned.
"Tega, do you have I'm fine in your fridge?" she asked, turning to look at Michael, who had just walked in.
Amara laughed, "I will have soya milk, ma. Thank you."
"Oh! That's the I'm fine. I didn't know," Michael's mother said with a laugh as she walked away to get the drink.
"Your house is fine," Amara told Michael.
"Thank you," Michael said, watching her with an unreadable reaction. "I will be inside," he said before walking to his room.
Amara's mother returned with a tray containing two bottles of soya milk and a plate of chin-chin, which she set down in front of Amara.
"So, my dear, you're welcome," she said, taking one of the soya milks and opening it with the corkscrew.
She set it down in front of Amara, picked up the second bottle, and opened it for herself before sitting down.
"Thank you for the refreshment, ma," Amara said with a polite smile.
"Thank God. So, tell me about yourself and how you ended up leaving the church," she said, and Amara went on to tell her all about herself.
Amara didn't bother to mention the role the pastor's wife had played in all of it. She just told her all about her responsibilities and how she had been frustrated and ended up deciding to do that.
When she finished, the woman sighed softly. "I'm glad Tega was there to help you last night. I don't think it is a coincidence that he just happened to be the pastor of your former church. Tell me something, did you reach out to your pastor or his wife about your problem before leaving?" She asked curiously.
Amara nodded slowly. "I talked to the pastor's wife."
"Elohor?" She asked, and Amara nodded.
"What did she say? Did the church not do anything?" She asked, and Amara hesitated slightly before telling her what transpired between them.
"Hm. I can understand why you will get angry and leave. But you were a worker in God's vineyard. I believe you were not a baby Christian. When you're serving God in truth and spirit, you shouldn't allow what others do in church to push you out of your relationship with God. It does not matter if the person is even the bishop of the church. They're humans. If you had died and gone to hell now, you would have been the one suffering there, not your pastor's wife, shey you know?" She asked, and Amara nodded.
"Yes, ma."
"I believe Satan also orchestrated everything that happened. Imagine the lady who appeared to you as an angel of light. You didn't know she was a wolf in sheep's clothing. This doesn't change the fact that Elohor didn't do well, though. I will talk to both her and her husband," she promised. "I was supposed to leave tomorrow, but because of you, I will postpone my trip. You said Tega paid for three days at the hotel?" She asked, and Amara nodded again.
"And you don't have anywhere else to go," She said thoughtfully. "Don't worry, we will figure it out before I leave. I would like to help you in any way I can. Thank God you have a good handwork and can sew."
"Thank you, ma," Amara said, kneeling.
"Why are you thanking me? I haven't done anything for you yet. Stand up and finish your drink. I'm coming let me change my clothes," she said as she rose and headed for her bedroom.
Michael, who had been eavesdropping on their conversation from the hallway, hurried away to his bedroom when he heard his mother approaching.
His mother wanted to help Amara? Why?
This whole thing was becoming even more complicated for him.