BELLY FULL OF BUTTERFLY FLUFFY
---
The children couldn't place their finger on it. Abigail had been uncharacteristically radiant, her smile stretching wide and persistent, almost like a permanent fixture on her face. It wasn't just her joy that struck them; it was the mystery surrounding it that made them restless. They were happy for her, of course, but their concern lingered like a stubborn cloud. After all, they had heard stories from their neighbours—stories of how happiness without explanation had been the first sign of a disturbing mental shift.
"Remember Mama Ade?" Elijah began, his voice tinged with an ominous tone as he washed the bitter leaves for dinner. "She started smiling like this too, always humming to herself. Next thing we knew, she was walking around the village naked, claiming she was talking to angels."
Emmanuel frowned at his older brother. "Mama Ade wasn't normal to begin with," he retorted, picking waterleaf with slow, deliberate movements. "Mum is just... happy. Let her be."
Elijah raised a brow and crossed his arms, his curiosity bubbling over. "Well, I think it's suspicious. Something's up, and I'm going to find out what it is. Aren't you the least bit curious?"
Emmanuel shrugged but kept quiet. He wasn't ready to entertain Elijah's conspiracy theories. Elijah, however, couldn't let it rest.
"We'll use young Daniel," he announced suddenly, a sly grin spreading across his face.
"Daniel?" Emmanuel asked, looking up briefly. "That boy is too focused on biscuits to notice anything."
"Exactly," Elijah said, "but he's also Mummy's favourite. He'll get answers without her suspecting a thing. Cheat code activated!"
They both laughed, sharing a conspiratorial look.
"But what will we use to get his cooperation?" Emmanuel queried.
"Isn't it obvious? Money or biscuit na. Ikpa ade aneke ase ama biscuit—that guy likes biscuit a lot," Elijah replied, earning a big nod from Emmanuel, who smiled at his younger brother's antics.
---
As young Daniel skipped around the compound, his mind was preoccupied with the promise of biscuits from his brothers. To his small mind, seeing his mother happy was far better than seeing her sad or depressed. But biscuits were biscuits, and the little boy was determined to earn his prize.
"Mummy! Mummy!" he shouted, barging into Abigail's room without so much as a knock. Courtesy wasn't part of his thought process—it was his mother's room, after all.
Abigail looked up, startled but amused, from the novel she was reading. Her son's hyperactivity had always puzzled her, especially his lack of interest in forming friendships with other children. She was concerned—deeply concerned—but today, her heart was too light to dwell on it.
"Yes, Daddy Boy," she responded warmly, folding the corner of her page.
Daniel fiddled with his hands and twirled around his mother like a restless kitten. "Brother Elijah told me to ask you why you're so happy and smiling so much these days," he blurted out, his eyes wide with innocent curiosity.
At the door, Elijah crouched low, straining to hear every word. He nearly lost his balance at Daniel's blunt approach. "Subtlety, Daniel! Subtlety!" he muttered under his breath, his face in his hands.
Abigail chuckled softly. "Is that so?" she asked, raising her voice ever so slightly. She knew her eldest son was eavesdropping. "Well," she continued, pausing dramatically, "tell him that mummy can be happy too. And if he wants to know anything, he should come ask me himself."
Before she could finish, Daniel had already bolted out of the room like a gust of wind, eager to collect his promised payment. Abigail sighed, shaking her head.
---
As the days turned into weeks, Abigail's unexplained happiness grew even more pronounced. She hummed while cooking, giggled while folding clothes, and, most tellingly, spent long hours on the phone. This was new, and the children noticed.
Daniel, in particular, felt the shift keenly. He was used to being the center of his mother's attention, her "Daddy Boy," the one who could always make her laugh. But now, her laughter was often directed at the mysterious voice on the other end of the line. She barely noticed him tugging at her wrapper for biscuits or trying to climb onto her lap.
"Who is she always talking to?" Elijah whispered to Emmanuel one evening as they sat outside, watching Abigail pace the veranda with her phone glued to her ear.
Emmanuel shrugged. "Maybe it's just one of her friends."
"For hours?" Elijah scoffed. "Even her friends don't talk that much. Something is going on."
Daniel, too, was growing increasingly irritated. His mother's smiles and giggles, which he had initially found comforting, now felt like betrayal. She was his mum, his protector, his best friend. How dare this invisible voice steal her away?
One afternoon, he tried to pull her attention back. "Mummy, can you help me with my drawing?" he asked, holding up a piece of paper covered in messy crayon marks.
"Not now, Daniel," she replied absentmindedly, her eyes lighting up as she laughed at something on the phone.
Daniel's lips quivered, but he said nothing. Instead, he stomped off to the backyard, his small fists clenched. He didn't understand what was happening, but he didn't like it.
---
Abigail, oblivious to her children's growing unease, continued her daily conversations with Mr. Paul. It had been five years since her husband passed away, leaving her widowed at the tender age of 30. She had never imagined finding joy again, much less love. But Paul had changed that.
The children, however, had no idea who Paul was or why their mother was so enamored. All they knew was that something had shifted in their little world, and they didn't know how to feel about it.