The Best Revenge

 

Dear Marissa,

I have it on authority now, the best revenge you can mete out to someone who has done you wrong, is to go forth and live better.

It was very convenient I wrote about my unc in my penultimate letter or else you wouldn’t get this one. Something happened this morning, Rose, unc’s ex came to our house today. To make trouble? maybe. But whatever she came here to do, she did it in style.

Only a few months ago she was this broken, snotty girl Mr. had finished with. She was this woman begging to be loved. She was this girl asking me to talk to my uncle on her behalf. She was this woman thinking life couldn’t go on without him.

Later, she cut her losses and run.

This morning my uncle was speaking to someone on the phone, giving the person directions to our house. He said he’d meet this person at our junction. I was wondering who that was. A few minutes later, I saw her through the kitchen window. I pieced it together—Rose is so so so over us she doesn’t even remember where we live anymore. Eish. If it is an act, it is a mighty- frigging- statement- making act Marissa.

You see when she was phone stalking him, he wouldn’t pick her calls. But when she suddenly went quiet, ignoring him, carrying on with her life, months and months rolling by it seems now he picks up the phone when she calls.

Mr. looked restless when they entered the compound. He saw that I’d seen her. I made him aware I’d seen her. His head went down. It needn’t go down. I wasn’t judging him for bringing her into the house again, I wasn’t assuming in my head that he is cheating on his current woman with his ex, I was only celebrating her recovery. I was only celebrating ‘Jesus’ triumphant entry in to Jerusalem’.

Rose was made up. She looked darn fine. Rose cajoled to my grandma. Grandma didn’t waste time to dramatically pull out a plastic chair and wipe it with her cloth. She sat and they started talking.
Mr. was obviously disoriented. He’s a rather blank character so seeing him show emotion was quite a sight. I heard him come indoors straight into the bathroom. I held my position by the kitchen window. For minutes I didn’t hear water or anything. Was dude hiding?!

Rose rose from her barvadage with grandma and she was coming inside the house. It was my turn to get restless. I had a flashback of the very first day she saw me. She thought I was her competition. My uncle had a hell of a time convincing her otherwise. That was sorted later and soon we had become ‘bffs’. I knew she would want to hug me if she saw me. But I was in my pyjamas, an ugly scarf on my head, braless, barefooted and I hadn’t seen my toothbrush all morning. Get it?

Her fragrance colonized the entire apartment. She looked round, I pretended not see her but she screamed ‘good morning!’. Uh oh. She came to get her hug, I said hi. I let my smile do the talking and opened my eyes wide in addition to exaggerate the smile. She asked me if uncle had come inside and I nodded.

I heard her call uncle. He said he was in the bathroom. You know what she asked? ‘Maybe I should come scrub your back for you’. Oh no she didn’t! That little tease. Uncle weakly said, ‘I am not a kid, I can do it for myself’. Marissa the tone he used was a rather humble version of his already humble voice. It reeked of respect. The very way he’d say it to mum if she had asked that jokingly.

I went into my bathroom to freshen up. Halfway through teeth whitening I remembered she uses our post office box. She has lots of mail with us. I rinsed off and went to uncle. I knew my presence was a relief. I called him aside and asked him not to forget her mail. She was in his bedroom then. He politely hollered at her to remind him to give them to her.

One remarkable thing is, he left his bedroom door open the whole time. He was making a statement himself. He didn’t want any trouble. That was unusual. When women go with him to his room doors are never left open. This woman was different. He dared not.

Rose spent only 15 minutes in our house. She left with the goods she came to pick. She had finally understood not to mix business with pleasure. My uncle walked her outside to her car. That is something my uncle never does with any woman. You sneak in with him late, he gives you a lift very early the next morning when he’s going to work. But to walk you out in broad daylight as a gentleman would a lady he respects and do this like he isn’t ashamed to show you to the world, forget it.

Rose is impressive. She has recovered. She is ever so beautiful and God, she is beaming. Her presence shook him. He spoke to her with respect. He treated her with respect. She didn’t sneak in, as matter of fact he went to get her at the junction. He walked out with her. She didn’t come here with tears today, she came with subtle swagger.

She knew how to cut her losses and run. She has perfected the art of living better when your enemies would rather have you destroyed. Of course uncle is an enemy or he was. A friend won’t treat a friend the way he did. I remember the day he said out rightly with contempt that he can’t possibly marry this girl. Now he is telling grandma, he left Rose because his then wife was harassing her. He did it for her safety. Sh*t of the century.

Marissa, receive this gospel truth. The best way to avenge, is to go and live better, be better, strut better, climb, climb, win, win, touch the sky, hug the rainbow, work it, work it… haha Just do better. Not pretend you are doing better, actually do better.