When destiny is driven by a proposal.

Chapter 3 – When the unexpected occurs

I woke up this morning, feeling weary but optimistic, but an expected fatigue for the work I do. The possibility of seeing table 4 again, the good-looking visitor who had left me a substantial tip yesterday. With that extra money in my pocket, I can finally cater for the needs we have at home. Sharon will be ecstatic, as I can buy her a new tracksuit for her sports day today. The old one she has is getting shorter, this child is growing up way too quickly – I have been waiting for the funds to replace it. I am so elated. I have tomorrow and Monday off. It has been a crazy 2 weeks. I have been pushing myself, but my body is screaming for a break.

I force myself to get up, despite the heaviness in my legs, I have plenty of turns to make today. I need to go and fill up on some groceries – I have run out of eggs, flour, milk, and cosmetics. I checked the meter again this morning and saw that I have enough electricity for the week at least, thanks to the stranger’s tip at Table 4, one less issue to think about. I take Sharon to her sports day, she is so excited that I am spending some time with her, and I am happy to see that smile on her. l still have plenty of time to get through my errands this morning before I need to clock in at 3 this afternoon. Maybe I will be able to get those chocolate brownies that I like so much. I hardly get a chance to indulge myself with the simple pleasures of life, as I have a bit more to spend. I hardly get time to do this, but it being a Saturday and a late shift later, I got to everything planned. My shack is clean. Yes, I live in an outside room behind Mama Rose. People call it Silvertown, an area where the poor live, but we manage to make it our homes. Sharon and I share a tiny bed which hardly fits us both, but we get by and do a lot of bonding in the process.

Feeling it in my bones, I walked into the warm restaurant with a spring in my step. I have a good feeling about today – I sense something wonderful is about to happen. The restaurant is halfway occupied, the staff from the morning shift are waiting for their tables to pay. Others have already left.

I switch into high gear and focus on the task at hand. While I am attending to table 5, my colleague Grace taps me on the arm. I like Grace and I consider her a sister. “There is a customer asking for you, where should I seat him?”, she asks. Turning around, I saw the attractive guest from last night, who left me a generous tip. To my delight, he is back for more. I told Grace to seat him in the cubicle at the back next to the window, where he would have a view of the restaurant. Same table as yesterday.

I feel the blood rushing through my face, the same feeling as yesterday. I shrugged it off and head over to table 4. “Good day sir, welcome back – how are you doing?” I asked. I try to hide the nervousness in my voice. It’s as if he sees right through me with those piercing eyes of his. They sparkle like sapphires, adapting to his mood. “Doing well thank you, April, and did I not say my name was Michael, can we stop with, Sir please, I am not at the office today.” He echoes – I could only smile with those words. Today there was no suit, he looked totally relaxed with dark blue Leevi jeans, a white Nike tacky and a white T-shirt, which still displayed his chest hairs ever so slightly. This time a gold chain glints just above the start of the chest hair. I catch a whiff of his cologne, which makes my head spin. He smelled so good today. I have never smelled this perfume before.

“So, what will it be today, April?” he asks. I gasped with surprise and needed to compose myself and my thoughts. I need to do my absolute best. “May I offer the same lager you had yesterday? The glasses are in the fridge, so it’s guaranteed to be ice-cold,” I said. We chat with ease, like old friends. Giving me cart blanche like this, shows he trusts my judgment. He nods and flashes a big smile. “Thank you for the tip last night, it really was too much”, I say, “blame it on the fact that I don’t know the currency,” with a slight giggle. “No, your service was excellent, and it was worth every penny,” he adds.

“Well thank you, it really did come in handy. Can I decide on tonight’s meal again?” feeling all confident to have this conversation with a client. I want to impress him.

I made a beeline for the bar and poured him a frosty mug of beer, ensuring that there wasn’t too much foam. I placed in on the table in front of him, with a smile. “Do you eat pork by any chance? We have crispy pork knuckle – Eisbein on the menu today? Hope you are hungry though. It’s a German dish that is popular around here. Are you hungry?” I asked.

“I trust your judgment, Eisbein, it is.” He spoke. We exchanged a smile, and I went back to the kitchen, winked at Chef Andrews and the process started. I had made him happy yesterday when I handed him 150 Namibian dollars. I kept my eye on table 4 the entire time and guaranteed that his cold drink was available. I came back a while later with his plate of pork. His eyes got so much bigger, as I forgot to tell him that it was huge. “How on earth will I finish this?” he asks, with a smirk on his face. “Customers usually take what ever they do not finish home, but I promise you the taste is worth it.” I say. “Let’s see how far I come with it.” We smiled, and I was gone again, a routine I knew all too well.

Time flew past, and I came back to the table. He was halfway through the Eisbein, he did better than most clients usually do. “How was it?” I asked.

“April, to die for, and especially the crispy parts of it, if I could finish it I would, but really I can’t” he said. “Should I wrap it up for you?” I asked. “I am living in a hotel, so I don’t think I can take it with, if you can take it or give it away it will be great.” “Thank you will do just that.”

I took it and went to wrap it up in foil, took it outside, as there were some teenage boys hanging around. I just didn’t notice I was just outside the window where he was seated, I felt a burning sensation that someone was looking at me. I looked up and there he was looking at me with a smile. I told the boys to share it, and with it I asked the kitchen to add on some other left-over food as well, there was enough at least to take the hunger away even just for today. I wonder what he was thinking while staring at me through the window.

I returned with a cold beer, “When do you get a break April? I could use some company if that is even allowed.” It was my break, and I had no other tables to service, so I sat down. I felt sorry for him, being in an unfamiliar city like this. “What you did was really commendable”, Michael said, referring to the food I had given to the homeless teenagers outside. “I know the feeling of sleeping hungry,” his eyes softened with sympathy. I shrugged it off. He asked me in short about who I am, and he told me he was from New York and working on a project in Namibia for his company. And that he was returning to the states on Monday.

“April, I would like to see this beautiful place of yours. I need a reliable tour guide – I will pay for it.” The offer tempted me, and I wanted to say yes. I couldn’t think of anyone else, plus I was afraid he would get scammed somewhere, so I decided to do it myself. “When would you like to do it, I’m off, tomorrow and can show you Windhoek and the surrounding areas.” “Tomorrow it is, here is my card, give me a call as from 10, and we can arrange how to meet, I can even come pick you up.” I shivered slightly, at the thought of allowing him to find out where I live. It was so humiliating.

He settled his account and left me a generous tip, as he did the day before. I savored the moments I spent with him, he made me feel more than just a waitress, at least just for a while. He asked me about my dreams and passions, and I was drawn to his curiosity. But behind his charming smile, I sensed a sadness that mirrored my own. I realized we are all human and go through the same experiences – rich or poor. Here were two souls, both longing for something more, something deeper, than our lonely lives.

I rose with the sun on Sunday morning and topped up my phone credit. I took a deep breath and called him, a slight shiver in my voice, ever so present. I dialed the number. I was intrigued by this man from table 4. He had entered my life at a time I was strapped for cash and desperate. Maybe there was something hidden here, maybe he wanted more than just a tour guide – a girl can only dream.

“Hi April, I was wondering when you would call.”