The twins were inseparable, with different intentions, but one thing was for sure: Naledi trusted her twin enough to invite her to her baby welcoming celebration.
Celia, the social worker, came with Gotsididi wrapped in a warm blanket. The memory of how cold she was when Naledi found her four months ago still lingered in her memory, as if it were a fresh wound.
“Don’t be scared, Naledi. Here is your baby,” Celia said.
Naledi played with her fingers anxiously. “She is here, and she is mine,” she thought. Tshepo raised an eyebrow at Naledi with a smirk, teasing his wife.
“Celia, I think my wife doesn’t want the baby anymore. Take her away,” he joked, coming to push Naledi to take the child.
“No, no, I’ll hold her. I need to prepare first.”
“Nana, just go. Hold your baby,” Dinaledi prompted with a big goofy smile, holding a glass of wine.
“Fine.” She let out her hands, butterflies tingling in her stomach, throwing a celebratory party inside. The yellow sunshine flowered blanket was warm, and soon the weight of Gotsididi in her hands made Naledi believe that she was finally a mother. “Tshepo, look, I’m holding her. I’m holding our baby.” A burst of tears fell from her eyes like the water at Hartebeespoort Dam.
Tshepo wrapped his hand around his family, gazing lovingly at Gotsididi. “She’s beautiful. Hello, little one. It’s me, your dad.”
She smiled. “And your mom.” Naledi turned to her twin, who was drinking wine and leaning on the dining table. “And your aunt, the one who’s drinking wine.”
“I believe that would be me?” Dinaledi smiled, but in her mind, a lot of questions were running. Why was Naledi’s daughter at the hospital, and why was there a social worker at her house?
Dinaledi had found time when she and Naledi were preparing food for the family – Simon and Naledi’s stepmother, Victoria, who came to see the baby.
“Dinaledi, can you please pass me the aromat?” Naledi asked as she cut the cucumber.
She looked around but couldn’t find the aromat. “Where is it?”
“In the pantry.”
“Okay.” Dinaledi proceeded to the walk-in pantry. “Nana, if you don’t mind me asking, why was the social worker here?” She asked while searching for the aromat.
“She was here to finalize the closed adoption for Gotsididi.” Naledi let out a deep sigh. “You see, four months ago, an evil woman left her on our cold pavement. If I hadn’t found her earlier, she would have been dead.”
Dinaledi’s body felt as if she had been electrocuted, causing her to drop a packet of spice. She remembered that four months ago, during the night, she had left her one-day-old baby on the pavement.
“Sesi, are you okay?” asked Naledi.
“Uh… yes. It’s just a packet of spice,” she responded, feeling uneasy and with her head throbbing with pain. “Naledi, I’ll quickly go to the bathroom.” She ran past Naledi.
“Could Gotsididi be my baby?” she asked herself, looking in the mirror. “How could I do something so stupid? What will happen to me if I confess? I might go to jail for concealing the birth, and my mother will hate me more than she already does.”
A knock resounded on the bathroom door, causing Naledi to hurry out. “Oh, Tshepo, it’s you.”
“Are you okay?”
“Fine,” she answered in a rush, hoping to distance herself from Tshepo. If she could disappear, she would have been long gone by now.
“Dinaledi, have we met before?” Tshepo questioned. “The mole on your forehead, I remember seeing it somewhere.”
She shook her head. “No, we have never met.”
Before she could run away, Tshepo called out her name as guilt consumed him. “Wait, are you sure?”
Dinaledi stopped dead in her tracks, annoyed. “Tshepo, maybe you haven’t noticed, but I’m in a hurry.”
“I’m sorry, I thought I knew you.”
A moment of euphoria hit her as if it were a bolt of lightning. Enlightened by the sudden epiphany, she realized that she could finally acquire Naledi’s life.
“On that note, I remember you…”
“You do?” Shrieked Tshepo.
“Yes, I do. You look like the man whom I met at a club nine months ago, who is ridiculed by his friends because of his infertile wife.”