Saturday Morning

07:15

The weather from the previous night hadn’t changed; the rain had gotten worse at the Gold Coast. The neighbourhood consisted mostly of high-rise apartment buildings and face-brick mansions. Rosie and Idina had been living luxuriously there since their childhood.

A black car turned into the driveway of one of the apartments at Melrose Ave. Two African men hopped out from the front seats, dressed in silver-grey suits, and slid open black umbrellas. The men opened the back doors at the same time and two figures stepped out and hid under the umbrellas, then marched toward the veranda, accompanied by the men in suits accompanied.

Marisa Blasco sipped her caffeine carefully through her lips and enjoyed the hot, steamy taste until she heard the doorbell ring. Who’d be trespassing at this early hour? She’d thought defiantly, as she darted to open the door with a cup of coffee in her hand. When she swung the door open, she let the cup slip down from her hand to break on the floor. The hot coffee burnt her feet and she bent down, grimacing in pain.

“Are you alright, dear?” a woman asked, with an African accent.

She lifted up her head and saw a woman pulling up a jovial smile. The men next to her seemed too pleased to see her as she stared with an indignant glare. Behind them on the veranda were two men who stood with black umbrellas covering all the figures from the rain. As Marisa shifted her eyes further, she realised her gate was wide open.

“Are you going to let us stand here all day, young lady?”

The man with an African brogue had made her realise she was being rude. She apologised and gestured them inside with her head bowed to show respect to the former King Of The Zulus.

She could not believe her former in-laws were in her house after so many years. How did they even find her? She sighed, took a deep breath and ambled to the kitchen to make them tea. As far as she remembered, that was the most important thing to do before starting your day.

Twenty years ago, Marisa Blasco was married to a newly declared Zulu King Hugh Mpande in South Africa after his father had stepped down. Marisa and Hugh had been dating for five years before they got married. Shortly after a five month marriage, Marisa had found out he’d impregnated the same woman that she’d specifically rejected as his second wife. Now that there was going be a baby in the picture, she’d known for sure Hugh was going to be pressured into marrying her as she carried his heir.

Hugh knew Marisa would never share him. So she gave up their marriage, secretly packed her bags and left the Zulu Kingdom. She found a new life where she started afresh in the United States of America, before finding out she was also carrying the King’s child a week after her departure.

Marisa prepared and left the tea on the table for the in-laws to enjoy with her scones, and went to clean up the mess she’d made earlier, after the appalling surprise on her doorstep. As soon as she was done, she went back to join them and find out why they had come all the way from Africa to pay her a visit.

“How did you find me?” she asked, with a gentle voice, as she sat on the couch across from them.

“You mean, how did my son find you?” Hugh’s father responded.

Marisa frowned.

“After you left,” his wife answered her question, “Hugh became connected with lots of powerful people since he became king. He asked favours from here and there until you were discovered here in the US, pregnant with his child.”

Marisa was caught by surprise again. If they’d only known about her daughter recently, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise. But to know Hugh had known about her when she was still in Marisa’s belly, it was absolutely a shock to her.

“He knew about your pregnancy before you even found out you were pregnant,” said Hugh’s father, who caught the aghast look in her eyes.

If Hugh had known that they were going to have a baby, why didn’t that idiot say anything? She’d thought furiously.

“Why did he never come to me, call or anything to contact me if he knew I was pregnant with his child?” Marisa asked.

“Because he’d realised you were living the life that both of you always dreamed of. A quiet place like this neighbourhood with normal people, without the fame or the status. He chose to let you go so you could be happy, both you and the baby. That’s how much he loved you,” his mother responded, with her soft and calm voice.

Marisa’s face was now lighting up.

“Why are you here?” she asked. There was a moment of silence between them.

Tell us: Why do you think the parents have come to visit?