Read the first episode of Spending Mommy’s Money
Chapter Two – The Insured Place
Tari watched as foamy, brown liquid escaped from a tumbled can of malt and spread over the tablecloth. It oozed toward him in a weird way, like tentacles of a beast coming to attack him.
This is how Nigeria will come for you, and you’ll be helpless to stop it. Then, it will happen to you. Nigeria must happen to you, my guy! You gats to japa!
Those words had been uttered by a friend some years ago, and Tari had agreed with said friend then that it was time for them to relocate from Nigeria. Soon after, they commenced on an elaborate plan to leave the country together. Sadly, life happened faster than Nigeria did, and Tari abandoned his japa plans to care for his ailing mom. His friend was now out of the country while he had lost his will to relocate. He was stuck here, having lunch in a crappy restaurant, wondering when he would fix the broken AC in his rattletrap car.
“Is there a day we come to eat here that you don’t pour something? Ehn, Cami?”
Tari picked his phone from the table, a second before the spilled malt touched it. He smiled at his colleague’s reprimand of their other colleague who had toppled over her can of malt.
“The other day, it was coke. Last week, it was zobo. Today, it’s malt. Brother Wizzy go vex for you o. Forget dis your fine face.”
Brother Wizzy was the man who ran the small staff restaurant where employees of The Insured Place often lunched. He fancied himself a chef and would sometimes try to add chopped carrots and green pepper to his jollof rice. If one was lucky, they might get a cube or two of liver. On such occasions, his customers had to praise his cooking prowess or they would get a snub the following day with a slab of fat as the protein in their next meal.
“Brother Wizzy loves me too much to be mad at me,” countered Cami, fluttering her faux lashes at Benson. She believed she was a beautiful woman; and maybe she was, Tari wasn’t sure. He had this thing that once a woman threw herself at him, she stopped being attractive. Not that Cami ever caught his eye. She was his friend and she was okay, he guessed. Curvy, spotless dark skin, always with the right amount of makeup. He could see why she was the front face of the company; the last bus stop that prospective clients came to after he and Benson had successfully convinced them to buy insurance at The Insured Place. Cami had mad skills in trapping clients in and getting them to sign off on a plan. She constantly tried to use those skills on Tari. He always pretended to not know what she was up to.
“One day, she will lock you up in her office and the rest will be history,” Benson would often say, though he was the one who spent his working moments imagining the things Cami could do to him. But she was out of Benson’s league. A few times, Tari had imagined them together as a couple and the picture didn’t fit. Benson was a short man; and although he cut a clean and well-groomed appearance (which was expected of his profession as a marketer), he just wasn’t suited for a buxom woman as Cami. Then, of course, she looked richer and older, because she was.
“Right, Tari?” Tari stared down at his arm that was suddenly warm with Cami’s touch. She had just stated that she was irresistible. She wanted to know if her self-assessment was right.
“To the man who matters, you are,” Tari answered. It was not the response she sought. She smiled and withdrew her hand.
“I want to officially say that Brother Wizzy’s food today sucked,” Cami stated. Tari stared at her empty plate of fried rice. “It tasted like death.”
“What does death taste like?” he asked. He had been Cami’s friend for nine months, since he began this job, and half the time, she loved to talk about her men. She always seemed to have a couple of them at any given time, whenever she wasn’t trying to get Tari into her bed.
“Death tastes like rot, I guess,” Cami answered. “Like decay or fecal matter. Remember that neighbor of mine I told you about that died alone and was rotting away for almost nine days? I was there when they tried to scoop him off the floor of his bathroom—”
“Seriously?” Benson made an exaggerated show of irritation.
“Can we just enjoy our food without remembering disgusting stuff today?” Tari pleaded. “Last time, it was how this woman was frying her eggs with semen.”
Benson burst into loud laughter. The door of the restaurant opened and a woman walked in. Tari glanced at her and went back to his plate of beans. But he looked at her a second time as his mind registered her form. He dropped his fork and leaned back on his chair, eyes still on her.
“Tari?” Cami called, but his eyes followed the lady who donned a cyan blue dress, fitted to her figure, which used to be fuller when he last saw her. She also used to be lighter in complexion.
“Do you know her?” Cami asked.
“Um…yes. Yes, she’s an old friend.”
“She’s the new front desk girl. She’s replacing Teni, who is getting married this weekend. I hope you’re coming for the wedding?”
“What wedding?” Tari was still distracted. The new front desk girl was speaking to Brother Wizzy at the food counter. He was laughing over something she had just told him. Tari remembered how contagious she was and the way she used to make him laugh too.
“Haba, Tari. You paid for the aso-ebi nau. This means that you haven’t even made your outfit.”
Tari frowned. “Cami, I don’t do weddings. I already told you.”
“It’s Teni o. The sweet girl who always calls you Uncle Tata.”
“Tata kee her dia.”
Benson gave another exaggerated laugh, causing the new front desk girl to turn in their direction.
“Tari?” she called, recognizing him through squinted eyes.
“Oh my God!” She smiled fully as she made her way to their table.
“Okay, I’m out. I have work.” Cami walked away.
“What are you doing here?” the front desk girl asked as Tari got off his chair to hug her.
“I’m having lunch.”
They hugged and she held him closely. “I’ve so missed you!” She let go. “God! Look at you! You’re so fresh!”
“Fresh ke!” Tari smirked. “What are you doing here?”
“I work here. At The Insured Place, I mean. I started today.”
Then, she looked at the name tag hooked to his shirt pocket and her eyes widened.
“You work here, too?”
“Head of Marketing. Wow!”
Tari hid the tag in his pocket. Benson cleared his throat and Tari turned. “Didi, meet my colleague, Benson. Benson, this is Didi. Ndidi, I mean.”
“Hello, young woman.” Benson stretched out his hand for a shake. Didi took it and smiled at him.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Such a killer smile!” he complimented.
It was the dimples. They had held Tari’s attention the first time he met her. The rest of her face had made a statement too. Flawlessly shaped brows, full faux lashes, beautiful lips with a blended shade of lipstick, highlighted cheekbones, a bronzed nose, and the perfect dab of rouge on her cheeks. Her makeup had been superb, and he didn’t care to know if she was less flattering underneath. He had wanted her straightaway.
It was strange that he felt nothing now. Just a generally good feeling one got from seeing a friend they hadn’t seen in a while. He was a little worried too. Didi’s skin had breakouts—something that was alien to her—asides the weight loss and darkening of her complexion.
“Have you made your order?” he asked her.
“Yeah. Just jollof rice and moi-moi.”
“Sit with us, then. They’ll bring the food.”
Didi stared at the table, at the stain from the spilled malt.
“We can switch to the next table.”
“And that’s my cue to leave.” Benson suddenly sprang up, giving Didi a surprise, which she hid with a pressing of her lips that accentuated her dimples. They walked to another table and Tari pulled out a chair for her.
She thanked him as she sat. “So, how have you been ex-boyfriend?”
“I’ve been…” Tari smiled. He remembered his mom and her cancer diagnosis, just a couple of months before he and Didi broke up. He recalled the first treatment and how she went into remission, only for the disease to return two years later. The endless days and nights that stretched to fifteen more months until she stopped fighting and embraced death. “I’ve been good. You?”
Tari saw the lie in Didi’s eyes. There was pain there too. He wondered if she could look into his eyes and tell that things haven’t been great for him as well.
“Wow! Four years! I’ve really missed you, Atari Abashi. Sometimes, I want to call and say hi, but I’m not sure you’d want to hear from me.”
“Yeah, it’s good that you didn’t call.”
She laughed. “You and your wicked sense of humor.”
Uncle Wizzy’s apprentice came to their table with her meal. Didi thanked him and asked what sort of soda they had. While he responded to her, Tari let his eyes wander to the scar he saw on her neck. It was not there when he knew her. He saw another on her ear.
“Soooo…” She looked at him and he stared at his now cold beans porridge and plantain. “What have you been up to? Tell me about the women that took my space after I left.”
Tari smiled to himself. Did she want to hear about that? He doubted that she wanted to know how much of a hoe he had been in the past year. He blamed it on his mom’s illness and how he had sought the company of rich, older women for funds to pay for hospital bills. But his mom was gone now and he couldn’t stop. It wasn’t about the money anymore, he was enjoying the freedom to have hollow sex without any form of attachment. Didi had done that to him when she walked away. He hadn’t been able to keep a relationship since then.
“Let’s talk about you, instead,” he said to her.
For nineteen days, he observed her. Every morning, during each lunchbreak, and in the evenings on his way home. Her dimpled smile was always there like a perfected act—and even though it got brighter whenever she saw him, he knew it didn’t come from the heart.
He should talk to her, find out what happened in those four years, ask why she now looked like a blanched photocopy of the woman he once knew. But why should he care? Didn’t she walk away because he couldn’t give her the things she wanted? Hadn’t she been a coward about it and given a different reason for dumping him? Didn’t she block him off and leave him with no chance of closure?
Tari wasn’t bitter. His mom’s harrowing health conditions and fatality had erased emotions, which he considered inconsequential. Didi had been the least of his problems over the years until now. Why were her eyes red and puffy this morning?
“If you stare at her one more second, she’ll turn to smoke and disappear into thin air.”
“Hmm?” Tari looked at Benson in distraction, taking his eyes away from Didi who was tables away from them, seated alone. Her meal of white rice and stew was untouched. Her eyes had been on her phone for a total of nine minutes.
“Do you like this chick or something?”
Tari picked his glass of water and sipped.
“You can make your move, man. Screw company rules.”
Tari pushed his chair backward and stood.
“That’s more like it.”
He walked over to Didi’s table and took the seat, facing hers.
She put her phone down and looked at him. She tried to smile but nothing showed.
“Not a good time, Tari.”
“I’ll just sit here, then.” He tapped the table with his fingers. “And watch you ignore the food you paid for.”
“You want to eat?” She pushed her meal toward him. He shook his head. “Then, go away. Please.”
“I heard that you got married two months after you dumped me,” he said.
“Mutual friends showed me pictures of your traditional wedding. The whole thing looked expensive. I didn’t have to be told that he was rich.”
“Why are you bringing this up now?”
“Are you still with him? I don’t see a wedding ring. No signs that you’re actually married.”
Didi got on her feet. “I’m not doing this with you right now.”
“Fix a date, then. Any day, anywhere, anytime, let’s talk. I need closure.”
Didi looked at him.
“You owe me that, at least.”
“Fine. This evening. Seven?”
“I’ll let you know.”
She hurried out and he picked the meat from her meal.
Neither of them was dressed fancifully for their closure date. For Tari, it was a t-shirt worn over shorts. Didi came in a faded halter dress that showed off her spotless legs. She had chosen the Ikeja City Mall while Tari picked the restaurant. They sat in a cozy spot with shaded lighting, and Tari asked Didi to order anything she wanted.
They were silent for a bit. A server approached them and took their orders. Tari asked Didi if she was in good health.
“Do I look sick?”
“No. I don’t know. It’s just my thing these days to ask people about their health.”
“Tari… I’m so sorry about your mom.”
“I know. I got your DM on Instagram.”
“I wanted to call too, but…”
They went silent again, but this time, Tari ended it with a sigh. “I don’t want to be presumptuous… Or should I say post-sumptuous? But you dumped me because you found someone richer, right?”
Didi looked into his eyes. “I…”
“You know, my friends saw stuff. Bara was very sure you were cheating on me. He said he’d seen you about town with some Igbo guy. Of course, I didn’t believe him. Second time he mentioned it, we had a quarrel. Then, Joko confirmed it too, just a day before you said it was over.”
“Your friends never really liked me,” Didi said with an uneasy laugh.
“They did, at first, Didi. You made them stop liking you. But I need to know if you were cheating on me.”
“Yes, and I’m sorry.”
“Okay. So, what happened to your marriage?”
Didi breathed out. “If I tell you my story, you won’t believe me, Tari.”
Didi told Tari how her husband married her only because he wasn’t allowed to marry the love of his life, who was an Osu (outcaste). The story got more interesting as Tari learned that Didi, her husband, and the other lady lived together in one big house. But weirder was the fact that the lady was the one with the money and Didi and her husband depended on her. Didi became their maid and object of sexual gratification. She also suffered emotional and physical abuse, which doubled when she became pregnant. Her husband wanted the baby but his girlfriend couldn’t stand that she wasn’t the one pregnant for him. So, he begged Didi to stay with a friend, promising to send her funds for money for her monthly maintenance. He kept his promise until their daughter was born. Then, he stopped entirely and disappeared without a word.
“I found out later that he and his Osu bitch relocated to Canada,” Didi explained. “Long and short, I started off my makeup and pedicure business. Things were sort of going well, and I should have been content but…”
Didi’s voice faded as she spots the server coming with your orders. She waited until the man was done before she continued.
“My friend introduced me to this pyramid business. I made good money within four months and I started building air castles, imagining the soft life I’d have if I put in more cash. So, I borrowed from here and there and invested in the business. The next month, the whole thing crashed.”
“How much did you invest?”
“You don’t want to know, Tari. Just sha know that it landed me in jail for two months. When I got out, I packed my stuff, took my baby, and got on a night bus to Lagos. I’m not looking back. I won’t.”
Tari stared at his meal, his appetite lost. “Have you heard from her father?”
“How did you get the job at The Insured Place?”
“My aunt. She knows someone who knows someone that knows our boss. I was lucky to get the post. I was ready to do anything after sitting at home for three months and doing makeup for 5k.”
“And your loans, have you repaid them?”
“No. I’m still owing. I’ve started paying small, small. At the rate I’m going, it will take me six, seven years.”
She laughed and Tari caught a glimpse of the old Didi who always laughed at her problems. She used to be a happy child. Nzube, or whatever his blasted name was, had ruined a good woman.
Tari called the server and asked him to pack his meal. For the rest of the date, he watched Didi eat while he tried to fill her in on parts of his life she had missed. After they were done, he offered to drive her home, but she refused.
“I live in a slum. And I don’t want you to know where it is.”
“Didi, it’s me you’re talking to o. I grew up poor, and I’ve still not made it.”
“You don’t need to know where I live.”
“Fine. Let me take you to the nearest stop to your house, so that you save up on transport—”
“Because I told you about my financial issues, you think I’m a charity case now?”
“Didi, for fuck’s sake.”
“No, thanks, Tari. See you at work tomorrow. Thanks for dinner.”
She left the restaurant and he settled the bill. Several minutes later, he was driving out of the mall and spotted her standing by the road, waiting for a bus.
“Can you stop forming and just enter the car?”
Didi gave up with a pout, sliding into the car.
“I don’t have AC o. Just me and my humble but faithful Toyota Corolla.”
“Nobody asked you, Tari.”
He smiled and steered the car onto the street. “By the way, I’m the brokest amongst my friends, just in case you’re wondering. Momsi’s cancer treatment drained me. If it weren’t for this job, I’d be living under a bridge by now.”
Didi looked at him but said nothing. Tari didn’t feel like talking anymore either. He took her to her destination, parking his car at a primary school where people paid for overnight parking. He and Didi took a seven-minute work to her neighborhood that looked every bit like a slum, save for the occasional fancy house that towered over bamboo and wooden shacks. Tari asked Didi if the house owners didn’t feel threatened by the ruffians that lived around them. Didi explained that they were thugs themselves, having now been elevated to landlords. The boys paid taxes to them or they’d be kicked out of the neighborhood.
They walked on in silence until they came to a narrow path that was sandwiched by bamboo settlements. Didi led the way and they emerged in an area with more bamboo structures, built in a circular manner. In the middle was a well and a mai shayi shed.
“We’re here,” Didi said, pointing at a shack that was covered with black plastic sheeting. When they got closer to it, Didi asked him to wait outside. She entered the shack and Tari observed his environment. To the left, a group of men hovered above two other men that were playing a game of draft. The mai shayi shed had four customers, with one of them having dinner and the other three awaiting their orders. A mother and her children were seated to the right, watching something on a phone. In unison, they released a shout of “Aaaaah!” and burst into laughter. Their voices temporarily drowned the hypnotic Hausa song that was coming from the mai shayi’s Bluetooth speaker, hanging off the ceiling of the shed. In the distance, a pastor was raining down fire and brimstone on enemies. The crudeness of his voice was amplified by loudspeakers, and Tari guessed that a church was around the corner.
Didi came out with her daughter in her arms. She was a cute three-year-old that had no business being in a place like this.
“This is Ariella,” Didi said.
“Hi Ariella.” Tari stretched out his hand to her and she recoiled, clinging to Didi.
“Well, this is where I live.”
“Didi, this is far from the office.”
“I always leave early, so that I don’t jam traffic.”
“And going back?”
“Well, it’s the price I have to pay.”
“And who takes care of her when you’re at work?”
“My aunt. She’s a primary school teacher. She takes her to school and brings her back. Look… We’ll be fine, eventually.” Didi slapped away a mosquito from her arm. “This is just temporary. I’m saving money to get a better place.”
“Okay.” Tari looked around. “I should be heading home. See you at work tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Thanks for tonight.”
“It’s nothing.” He tried to touch Ariella but she turned away. “See you soon.”
“Ari, say bye to uncle.”
“Good night, Didi.”
Didi walked Tari through the narrow path they had followed earlier and he continued the journey back to his car. On his way home, he thought about his history with her. He had met her at a friend’s party and had been attracted to her at first sight. She hadn’t been hard to notice as she was inarguably the prettiest on the dance floor. The only problem was that she was dancing with some guy whose hands wouldn’t leave her body. Still, Tari was determined to know her; and when he finally got the chance, he realized that she was even more beautiful up-close.
“How can you not be taken already?” he asked, responding to a statement she made about not having a boyfriend.
“Men suck. Didn’t they tell you?”
Tari laughed, and she did seconds later, as if she had just realized that she said something funny. But Tari guessed that she had been staring at him while he laughed—and he understood why because a lot of women had told him that there was something cute about the way he did it. They bonded over cocktails and loud music. Didi told him that she was an orphan, having lost both parents as a child. She was raised by relatives that believed she was an ogbanje.
“I was born after six children.”
“You had siblings?”
“But I never met them. They never met each other either. My mom would have them and they would die. I was the only one that stayed.”
“Oh. An abiku! Hausas call it danwabi. But do you believe that crap?”
“I don’t know. It’s been like an identity to me, all my life. If anything bad happened to the people I lived with, they would say that I was responsible. They kept taking me to church for deliverance. Then, when they got tired, they’d pass me to the next relative.”
“And they kept saying I’ll die soon, that my people will come for me. But here I am, twenty-two years strong.”
That night, Didi showed Tari the ogbanje scars on her back, marked by a dibia when she was a child. Tari ran his fingers over the scars and kissed them as they lay in his bed after going at each other all night. They didn’t start dating immediately because Tari wasn’t sure that she wanted to be exclusive with him. She had a good number of men that tended to her needs, men that were older and richer. But she wouldn’t let him go. Her reason, asides her feelings for him, was that Tari kept her grounded. He was focused on his future, intentional in his ambition. Each time they were together, he pushed her to be productive. She got her first serious job because of him. He also made sure she attended makeup classes at his friend’s salon every weekend. This left Didi with little time to see other men. Tari occupied her free moments, which were mostly at nights. Every weekend, they either attended a party or went clubbing. On week nights, they stayed in, having sex and watching series.
By the time the relationship became serious, Tari was sure that he had exorcised every form of competition that could knock him off his place in her life. And for a while, things were glorious between them. Didi made him dream and work harder toward his goals. The plan was to leave the country on a work visa. He had already gotten an MBA via scholarship at Cairo University, and he looked forward to becoming a marketing expert in a foreign company.
But the rumors about Didi and other men soon reached his ears. They had just celebrated their one-year anniversary and the fire between them had begun to wane. This was largely Tari’s fault as he was immersed in his job, a side hustle, and actively seeking job opportunities in the UK and Europe. Didi, on the other hand, like a child that was quickly bored by a new toy, sought attention elsewhere. Tari refused to believe the rumors, but he was aware that he had never been enough for her. He couldn’t afford the type of lifestyle she wanted, which was something they often fought over.
His relocation plans worsened their fights. Didi believed that once he traveled, he would forget about her. She was also mad at him for not making any effort to help her leave Nigeria with him.
The relationship managed to stretch on for three more months before Tari saw the messages on her phone from another man one evening. He confronted her, and while she admitted that she had been cheating, she blamed him for it. Afterward, she walked out of the relationship and his life. He didn’t realize how much he loved her until she was gone. At that point, his mom had just been diagnosed with breast cancer. His life took a downhill trajectory from then on.
His job at The Insured Place was another opportunity from life to build his dreams from the ground up, but things were slow. The pay was terrible and the commission was a joke, though it was better than nothing. He was depressed and had little motivation left to seek a better life.
He also suffered from loneliness. His mom had been his closest companion while she was alive. He had a dog, gifted to him by the friend with whom he had plan to leave Nigeria. His other friends were available, but Tari had been distant with everyone, as they were a reminder that life went on while everything around him burned.
There was one woman in his life, but she was there only for the transactional relationship they had. The sex and money weren’t great, but he didn’t know how to break out of the affair, as she was the wife to the owner of The Insured Place. He had gotten the job and car through her. Walking away would mean that he had to let go of the little comfort he had, even though the arrangement was a quiet sort, unfussy and undemanding. Sometimes, they met twice a month, in an apartment on the island, which she had begged him to move into. She hated that he didn’t demand of her; she enjoyed when her boys begged her. Tari knew that the only reason she retained him was because of the sex. The moment she got something better, he would be history.
Approaching his house, he received a call from her. She wanted to know if he would be free this weekend. Her husband was out of town, and she wanted to take him to a resort at Bonny Island for three days.
“I…have a wedding to attend,” he lied.
“Yeah. My friend. He’s getting married in Akure.”
“Why are you lying, Tari?”
“How do you know I’m lying?”
“Because it’s always one thing or another. You won’t let me spoil you, and I want to spoil you so bad.”
“I’ve told you before that there’s no man in this relationship. So, leave your male ego at the door and let me take care of you.”
Yes, it was his ego, but it wasn’t because it was male. It had taken a beating from life, and he was still trying to mend it.
“I have to go for this wedding, Jessi. I’m sorry.”
She hissed and hung up. Tari pulled the car into his compound. He shared the space with three other flats. Two were above him while the other was downstairs, beside him. His neighbor above was always kind to dog-sit Oscar whenever he was out. She was a single mom whose child he enjoyed babysitting each time she was on a date.
Presently, she was standing at her balcony with her toddler in her arms and Oscar seated beside her.
“Did you bring something for us?” she asked, eyeing the food pack he took out from the car. He had forgotten how much she loved begging.
“Um…yes, actually. It’s for Jay.”
She smiled and disappeared from the balcony with Oscar. Seconds later, they were downstairs.
“Thanks for looking out for Oscar, as usual.”
He handed her the meal and took Oscar’s leash.
“Jay, say goodnight to Uncle Tari.”
The little boy waved as Tari made his way to his apartment. Once he got in, Oscar whined to remind him that he hadn’t eaten. Tari served him a snack and they sat together in the living room to watch something on Netflix. Tari settled for bread and peanut butter with a beer.
He got a text from Didi, asking if he had gotten home safely.
Yeah, just got in.
Okay. See you tomorrow.
Tari drank his beer in contemplation. Tomorrow, he would sit with Didi during lunch and ask her to move in with him. He had an entire room in his apartment that was empty, filled with his mom’s stuff. He would clean it out, and if Didi accepted his offer, he would help her move in during the weekend.
©Sally Kenneth Dadzie @moskedapages
Some people are dealt hard blows in life. I really feel for Didi.
Okafors law load. This is the chaos I expected. And I am here for it.
Thank you Sally
It’s getting clearer now.
Everyone with their baggage.
Thank you Sally….you made my weekend in no small measure.
I really feel for Didi though, sometimes we make foolish decisions that haunt us for the rest of our lives.
Life and drama be like 5 &6
Thank you, Sally.
Should Didi accept the offer? Okafor law issa thing oh! I feel for both of them, Life has shown them both habanero pepper, maybe they’ll finally build something stronger…maybe
I felt sad reading all Didi went through, sometimes it’s not good to have oju okokoro . This story dey sweet me Die.
I felt bad for Didi. One wrong turn and her life just scattered like that. However, I don’t want anything romantic between Tari and her again.
Make everybody dey their dey
Yes Didi is going through a lot but this Tari guy , why’s he trying to play the hero? He so badly wants Didi to see him in that light, dude is crying for help. Cami should take a hint and stop flirting with the guy too, i need to shout at these people 😩
Hmmm. Life issues….
It’s always sad how one “tiny-looking” decision can change a whole trajectory of your life.
The trajectories of Tari and Ndidi’s lives mirrors part of my conversation with a few friends some days ago. We took a look at life and how everyone’s faring and I told them it’s a mixed grill with different strokes for different individuals. Life will put some people on their backs and deal them severe blows that they won’t ever recover from while some are able to have that turn for good. I enjoyed reading this. Thank you Sally