Thandie shuffled the bills in her hands like French suits of clubs, diamonds, hearts, and spades. No matter how she looked at things, she didn't have enough money to pay the bills. The house was broke.

She had already made cuts and said O Dabo [bye in yoruba] to Netflix movie nights while her kids did the same Saturday morning Disney movies on the Disney platform.

Her children had no activities other than school. Leisure was two swings and a ride on the roundabout at the park. The list went on; the cardboards once filled with branded goods now had tasteless food with suspicious nutritional values behind white labels. Buying ingredients for African dishes came up more expensive. Okra, smoked turkey, stockfish, ugu, plantain, pounded yam, milo, peak milk, bell peppers, the basics some would say would add up to about one hundred and five pounds, either seven thousand two hundred and twelve nairas for a week's worth of food.

Moses Chiromas' wife never even looked at the receipt, but Thandie, the single mother, could only dream of topping such a bill.

Thandie laid the papers on the table and took a huge gasp of air, hoping not to succumb to a panic attack. She did what the doctor advised and thought of good times and what made her happy.

Moses.

For Thandie, it was love at first sight. Tall, medium brown complexion. Small, eyes, lips and nose, and a dress sense, the woman was a goner for the sweet talker. Moses was one of those men that made Chinua Achebe and Sidi Kaddour El Alami sound like amateurs.

She was twenty-four when Moses put the ring on it. The babies popped right away. Royal followed by Kenya, the pregnancies weren't planned, but the couple found themselves blessed with a baby every two years. It was a dream come true, but the happiest moments were yet to come.

People gasped every time Thandie revealed her age and the number of kids she had.

"How do you cope?"

"I hope your husband gives you a hand," were the usual comments that fused.

Moses helped; when present, Thandie felt like a queen. It wasn't rare for Thandie to come downstairs and find Moses hoovering or washing the dishes with one of the children on his back. That's the basics, some would say, but Thandie knew not all men contributed to housekeeping as much, especially when their wives stayed home.

Moses went all out for Royal. His first and only son got all his love and devotion. Moses made sure to build the infamous father and son bond. They even had a unique boys' day out once a month. Just as Thandie had her night out once a week, Moses would take her to a restaurant while Thiane babysat.

Those were the days.

Thandie looked at her ring finger. It was still there; she had no strength to take it off. They were still married; Moses hadn't signed the papers. She was still Ms. Chiroma. Denial was absolute, just like her struggle.

Not only did he cheat on her, but Moses made sure she was the one who did all the paperwork for the divorce in London.

Thandie wished to be free, but at the same time, all she knew was how to be Moses' wife. She knew how to make love, cook, and dress for Moses.

Her world revolved and evolved around him. The man made himself an essential with his affectionate ways making the woman a devotee of his love.

Thandie was his; the band on her finger attested it.

Her children didn't know, or at least they pretended well. It was foolish to think they didn't overhear some of her conversations, whether face to face or over the phone.

Her eldest Royal and Kenya avoided asking questions. When they did, their mother's evasive answers made them wonder why they bothered while feeling profound sorrow. They knew they could not share or show how they felt; it would only plunder their mother.

Thandie wondered if anyone else was as lost and desperate at that hour as she was on their street. Thandie wished she had someone to talk to about her daily endeavors. Someone who understood what she was going through and just told her it would be alright.

She couldn't imagine the person could be less than a mile away.

"Hi ya."

"Hi."

"Gosh, you're so stiff. Is this how you greet your sister? I haven't seen you in a fortnight, for Christ's sake."

Callum stood aside to let her in, "poor guy, can't rest in peace without some idiot calling him out, can he?"

"Jesus is alive, Callum," Caitlin said, lifting her hands in praise.

"Then his ears must be whistling," answered her brother.

"Fucking hell, Callum, air the place out," the woman said and strutted to open all windows. "It must be about fifty degrees in here."

Callum sighed; his sister was back with more chatter than ever.

"Can you serve me a drink?" Caitlin asked as she got ready to sit.

"You know the way the kitchen."

The woman huffed and walked to the fridge while Callum took a wooden chair to sit on.

Catlin returned with a glass of apple juice and sat on the sofa.

"Can you explain why you have a sofa if it's to sit on a wooden chair? I mean the furniture is yours. You'd think you leave in one of Ikeas' home kit displays, and the stuff is borrowed," Caitlin asked.

"It's better for my back. I'm getting old, you know."

"You're only forty, Callum, and that's the new thirty," Caitlin said and pointed the finger at him.

"If that's the case, how old are you then?"

"I'll be twenty-five eternally," said the soon-to-be 31-year-old while beating her lashes and using her hands to do Madonna's vogue pose around her face. You should have come with us. Greece was beautiful, and the food, oh, my, the food. You need a break, Callum. I swear, your icings and Eclairs won't run away."

"A break doesn't pay bills," the man returned.

"He kept asking about you, you know," Caitlin said, bringing the subject back to the lane she wanted the conversation to take.

Callum got up and went to the window. The sky was cloudless, and the sun seemed lonely.

"How long has it been Callum, huh, since you've seen him?"

"Too long. I've been busy."

"Oh, here he drew this for you," Catlin got up, took the paper out of her purse, and gave Callum the drawing. It had three bands of colors. The top half was yellow; the second was blue Callum guessed it was the sea; the last was brownish like sand.

Three bands, one had to have his perception or know the context to understand.

"He's getting better at it," Callum said, looking at the drawing.

"Yeah, he is."

Drawing, in general, wasn't Liam's thing. He was a numbers boy, but he made an effort because his dad loved paintings. Callum went to his fridge, placed the drawing, and stuck a magnet at the top.

"Go and see him, Callum."

"I will."

"When," Caitlin asked.

"When I have time," Callum replied. He knew Caitlin didn't have any bad intentions. On the contrary, she tried to remind his responsibilities.

"What are you doing right now?"

"I've got my class to give in an hour."

Catlin sighed; her brother was overworked. He left his teaching job to breathe and found himself working harder than ever.

Costs.

Children add up the cost, but a disabled one demands a high income. Callum was underwater with a mortgage and a business to manage alone, with Liam on top. So he got a side job, evening IT courses for adults.

Catlin drank up her glass and went to rinse it.

"Hey, use the liquid soap and a sponge."

The woman rolled her eyes but smiled within. Despite his ever-grumpy look, Callum remained her big brother.

"Where are you going dressed like that?" Callum asked and crossed his arms as their father used to when she wished to go out.

Yeah, Callum was still her big brother.

"I wondered when you'd noticed," Caitlin replied and turned around to show him her outfit.

"I noticed. What's the occasion?"

Caitlin grinned, "a date. I'm using this new app. You should give it a go. It's amusing."

"No," Callum said and returned to the window.

"Listen, let me tell you about it," the woman said and followed him.

"I said no."

"Callum, how long are you going to stay like this? You need someone in your life."

"I don't need one nightstand."

"Callum, trust me, this app is different. People can't swipe matches away. The rules are strict. And many people have met their ideal."

"Why are you still single then?" The man asked.

A devilish smile appeared on Catlin's face, "I don't know what I want."

"You should be ashamed to say that. People like you are the reason I don't want to waste my time on apps. I don't want to meet women who don't know what they want."

"Alright, fair enough," Catlin looked at her watch, "got to go. Listen, if ever you're interested, the app is called Oppo."

"Oppo?"

"Yes, for Opposites. See ya."

Caitlin hurried off. Callum barely had the time to say, don't bang the door, when he heard it slam shut.