For the Dream of 5 Years: Chapter Twenty-Four: Long Drives and Stacy

"I sent in my resignation letter to the university today," Michelle said as she walked out of the bathroom. She dropped her towel, and her endowed chest glared at Dave, her pair of breasts so full that they seemed heavy. He hadn't touched them for years, and he had, but not how he would have loved to, like the way he used to fondle them before Bianca was born. He would caress them, and Michelle would yield to his advances. All he had after Bianca was; "Please! Do what brought you here; I have to run some errands," or, "Please, my nipples are very sore; stay away from them," or, "I'm not wet today, and I don't have time for foreplay, maybe next Saturday," and so on. Before Bianca, or rather, before his cheating was discovered, he would hide and grab her as she came out of the bathroom, "Stop it, Dave, you will mess up my hair again, and I will be late taking another shower." After a little struggle, she would kiss him and say, "Okay, just a quickie, make it quick and a little rough," or he would fake fainting, and when she would come to give him first aid, he would grab her and shout, "caught you!" then they would have a little rough and tumble, and by the end of it he would be inside her. She would be laughing uncontrollably for falling for his tricks. "Why, are you tired of working?" Dave asked, hands behind his head and legs crossed on the bed. "Anyway, with your changed character lately, I knew it was just a matter of time," he continued, watching her apply lotion on her well-moisturized skin. "I need something more exciting. This life is so boring, I need to recharge, and I feel the job is draining me more than I am drained in this house," she said, still massaging her skin to have the lotion seep in well. "Michele, I have grown so tired of your complaints, especially those insinuating that the children and I are draining you," he snapped. "You and the children drain me so much. Aaaagggrrr! I need a vacation," she told him. "Alone?" Asked Dave. "No. Mike, Bianca, you and everyone from this estate, if you like! Do you want to drain me to death?" She sneered. "Well, not today, darling. I think I will go catch some breath outside; your despicable energy is choking me," He said, getting off the bed and leaving the house. Michelle put on a black turtleneck and high-waist light-blue jeans with a wider waistline, making her tiny waist look even smaller. She put on a pair of black knee-level boots and wore her favourite local cologne. She took a bag of chips and a bottle of water. The children had gone to get snacks with their nanny, a routine they were accustomed to on Saturdays. When Joan started spending too much time at school and going for dinners with her boyfriends, they had gotten a nanny from the village. She was called Lisa, a girl from Dave's neighbourhood, Dave's mom had brought her from her church and sent her to Stay with the Dave's after Joan reported that the children were suffering. "My daughter, go into that house; my son is suffering. I know you are a good girl. I know you understand what I mean by this. I wish you were my daughter-in-law. Make my son happy; let's see how life unfolds," she had told Lisa, putting her on a bus to the City. Michelle was to pick her up from the city that evening and take her to the house. "She seems nice and clean. I love that she is bonding with the children well," Michelle told Dave after she had stayed for about two weeks. A month later, Joan moved in with her boyfriend. Michelle threw her water bottle and the bag of chips on the back seat of her car and rested her head on the steering wheel, thinking hard about where to go that day. She had visited all the Malls in the city, had coffee in almost all the coffee houses in them, had gone halfway to the coast, and had visited the city's animal parks, and on that day, she wanted something different. An idea flashed into her mind, and she started her car, accelerated, and stormed out of the compound. "These boots are made for walking" was playing on the radio, she turned on the volume, the music was deafening, she put on a wide grin and drowned in the full blasting music. "...these boots are made for walking, and that's just what they'll do. One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you..." she sang along. Michelle let her hair loose opened the window, and let the violent wind blow her hair all over the place. She was growing to love the feeling of her hair flying up and down, back and forth, covering her eyes and getting in her mouth when she sang. She envied the strands because they were so free and liberated, no longer in a tight bun, flying all over and entangling with whatever strand they could. She wished she was a strand of hair, the wind, or the leaves of trees that flew past her Jeep. She wanted to be free, to fly away unbothered. After two hours of driving, she pulled over, reached for her bag of chips and water, enjoyed the privacy in her car, and chewed with her mouth so full that she laughed so hard. She walked out, putting an open palm above her eyes to block the sun rays so she could locate Yunicks Creations and Tattoos. Her new friend, Stacy, whom they'd met in the university, had bragged about the perfection of Yunicks' designs and had shown her a beautiful photo of a girl on her butt cheek. It was so perfectly done and looked so real that she almost said hi. After walking in, she was received well and asked what design she wanted. "I want the words, "my walking boots...watch out!" tattooed on my back, between my back dimples, the word 'boots' in bold and in italics," she said. When the procedure was done, a photo of the tattoo was taken with her phone and handed to her. "This is perfect, just how I pictured it in my mind!" She said, making her payment. "Hey girlfriend, guess what? I did it!" She said on the phone as she was getting in the car. "Did what? The tattoo? Send me a picture, dear! I hope it is a picture of my face!" Said Stacy on the other end of the call. "Yes, a tattoo. Why on earth would I have a picture of your face on my body?" She asked, laughing. "Because you like me," Stacy replied, laughing too, "Oh please, get a book, put your mind into use. I can see you are tripping again; see you on Sunday," she said, laughing. "Ha-ha, Okay, send me the picture. The students are already in the lecture hall waiting for me. Take care, darling," she said and hung up. Michelle sent the photo to Stacy and drove back to her house. While Michelle and Stacy were having coffee on Sunday at the Blue Valley Mall, Stacy asked about Dan. "I would like to see the boy that drove you wild five years ago. If I wasn't into girls, I could have looked for one too," she said, making a funny face and pouting her lips as if she was kissing. "I told you it was just a kiss, Stacy; it was a one-time thing that didn't go anywhere. Besides, I don't know where he went; it has been long. Additionally, I don't want to see him. I don't want to see any man besides my husband," she said, sipping her coffee. "Oh, stop with the bullshit. That Dave? That father of generations! Please! What is the other Dan’s name? I want to find him on social media?" Stacy said with her phone in her hand, ready to type and search. "Dan Kamau," said Michelle. "See? You want me to search for him. I know you want to see him; why didn’t you give me his name," she said, her face glued to her screen, impatiently waiting for her search results. "Well, he is not on social media, just like you. The only Dan Kamau I see here on Twitter is a hot, well-built guy who owns Jupitar garage in the outskirts of Nairobi. He looks old, not like your small boy. This one has a family; he's too hot to be single. He is so ripped, my goodness! Anyway, why don't you call him," she asked. "What do you say when you call someone after five years...," asked Michelle, laughing. "Well, hello? Remember me? Michelle? I would like to meet with you," said Stacy, folding her arms and leaning back. "I can't, Stacy. Even if I wanted, I can't. He has probably forgotten about me. Why are we even talking about him? He is a child," said Michelle Sipping her coffee. "A twenty-five-year-old young man," corrected Stacy. "Do you know how much vigour is in the age of twenty-five?" Stacy asked. "Why didn't you show me what you saw on the internet about Dan Kamau?" Asked Michelle stretching her hand to pick up Stacy's Phone. "Jesus Christ, is this a lecturer's phone with a pair of breasts for a wallpaper?" Michelle asked, trying to navigate her way to Stacy's open tabs. Her jaw dropped to the ground; she placed her hand on the chest and looked at Stacy. "This is him! Dan! This is my Dan, so grown, ripped, and strong! He made something out of his life. I told him to. I promised to kiss him on his twenty-fifth birthday if he did something good with his life," she said, scrolling over to view more photos of Dan. "Well, one problem solved, Dan is found. On to the next problem. When is his Twenty-fifth birthday?" Stacy asked, dragging her seat to sit beside Michelle so that she could see the pictures too. "Sorry," she whispered to the people who angrily looked at her and reacted to the screeching noise she made while dragging her seat. "It will be sometime next month, I remember, because I was home around September," she said, her eyes brightening up. "Well, let's check if there is a clue on his social media handles," Stacy said, snatching the phone out of Michelle's hand and typing something in the search bar fast. "Boom! September twentieth!" She Said and passed Michelle the phone.