Bebe’s Day Out
“Ouch, Maman you stepped on my foot! You should say sorry?“ Bebe spoke to me without looking me in the eye. If only she did look, my five-year-old would have realised that I stepped on her toe because I didn't want her to eat the sausages. Perhaps I was the one who expected too much from my adamant and loquacious daughter. No doubt, the slim, dark skinned toddler must have been sent to punish me for some sin in my previous life. It was enough that her biological father did not want to marry a mute, now he has burdened me with a high-spirited and talkative child.
“Maman, can I have more sausages?” She asked sweetly. The old couple smiled and the wife placed her last sausage on my daughter’s plate. “Thank you, Ma’am.” Bebe smiled back whilst burying her head with its two ponytails into the hotdogs. I groaned inwardly, giving her a basilic look for her persistent audacity. She ignored my stares. Gen Alpha and their independent minds! The two sausages she had eaten before were from the plates of the old couple sitting across the table where we sat enjoying the Chef’s special for the day at Finisse Restaurant. She was unaffected by the events happening around her. Bebe was the shameless and brazen child of her father, Pappy. He could walk into the president’s chambers and casually ask for a glass of water without batting an eyelid.
I fixed my eyes on the immaculate, glossy walls of the restaurant trying to chew the soft bones of the marinated chicken without making an awkward sound. A large TV hung on the wall above my line of sight and I absentmindedly watched some dancers prancing like monkeys while I thought about Bebe’s familiarisation with the old couple. She did not know them from Adam yet they were sharing sausages with her like family. I heard the old couple ask Bebe if she wanted some ice-cream and the gluttonous girl replied in the negative while her eyes spoke the opposite. Soon a large bowl of ice-cream was sitted before her waiting to be devoured. Bebe waited a while after saying “No, thank you” and soon began digging into the chilled plastic of dessert without throwing a slight glance at me. I did not know when I grunted and deliberately stepped on her toe again under the table but her response stunned me.
“What did I do now Maman? “She asked innocently. I was more frustrated that I could not berate her with words as words would have failed me as always. It is a frustrating feeling being the dumb mother of a vivacious 5-year-old.
“Is her father in town?” The couple asked me but before I could respond in the negative, Miss Can’t-Keep-My-Mouth-Shut jumped in saying her father had abandoned us. Immediately she uttered those words, I wished I could melt like the ice-cream she was eating and evaporate into thin air.
Pappy used to dot on me but it was my curvaceous body and alluring face that he had fallen for. We dated for seven years and when finally Bebe was conceived, he said he was not ready to be a father. But now he has fathered two other children with another woman since the breakup. It is true that not many normal people would want to marry a dumb woman even if she was a musical prodigy. Memories of how I used to croone blues at 5-Star hotels in my younger years filled my heart with melancholy. Now I could only write songs for celebrity artists like I used to write for Pappy.
“I’m sorry about the queue incident.” The old man said for the umpteenth time. I nodded and smiled at him, waving my hand to say it was fine but my mouth-piece, Bebe, stepped in again.
“Mum said it’s fine!” She waved her hand mimicking my previous gesture.
“You’re so lucky to have a daughter like her. She speaks up for you.” The old woman smiled at Bebe one more time as if she was a cherub that had just descended from heaven.
“Lucky?” I lamented to myself. Bebe has just completely embarrassed me and now she is acting autonomously as if I don't exist. I wish I had not brought her for lunch on her birthday. I would have averted such an unlucky day.
“See the way she stood up for you when we tried to jump the queue in front of you. She saved you from a fight by politely telling us that jumping queues is an act of Indiscipline.” The old woman stroked Bebe’s ponytails like she would a horse. I was uncomfortable with the way they were getting too close to my daughter. I reached for a pen in my bag to inform them that we were leaving but the old man’s request stopped me in my tracks.
“Can we adopt you and your daughter? We will sponsor her education and make sure she gets the best education we can afford. Please let’s support you.” He looked like he meant we’ll but I felt insulted.
“Do they think we are beggars?” I ruminated, irritated by their self importance. “Must people with disabilities be considered lowlifes?”
It was Bebe’s fault. I could feel my fury discolouring my face. I started to write on a paper that we were doing fine and did not need their support when a towering presence cast a shadow on the paper before me. I looked up slowly and Pappy was standing there looking as stunned as I was.
“Meet our son, Papilo.” The old man announced, ignorant of the fact that a fresh storm was brewing.
