It was still dark on Friday morning when Becky woke up. A mountain of work awaited her. Her only help was Chepto, her husband's niece, who had come to stay with them after Kiplimo was born. But Chepto's main duty was minding the little boy; the heavy lifting still remained Becky's alone.
Hurriedly, she prepared breakfast and washed the dishes left over from the night before. Then, with a sack and a hoe slung over her shoulder, she left the house to fetch white soil.
When she returned nearly fifteen minutes later, Chepto was awake, though the little boy was still asleep. Becky set the sack down, fetched two plastic troughs, and stepped outside. She scooped the soil into one of the troughs until it was half-full, crushed it into a fine powder, added water, and stirred it into a smooth, creamy mud. Decanting the mixture into the second trough, she discarded the coarse residue.
Dipping a rag into the mud until it was soaked through, she began her work. Her hands were steady and practiced as she smeared the kitchen walls—first outside, then inside—before moving on to the main house.
Once finished, she gathered her laundry and left for the river.
Chebet was already there. She must have arrived early; the fence along the riverbank was already draped in clothes, their colors bright against the morning light. At the sound of Becky's footsteps, Chebet looked up. She straightened, flicked the excess water from her hands, and offered her hand in greeting.
"Good morning," Becky said.
"Good morning to you."
"You are almost done, I see."
"Yeah, I've been here since eight."
"I would have come early too, but I had to clean the houses. My parents are coming tomorrow for my brother's graduation."
"Oh, that's right! Tomorrow is graduation day. Will your husband attend?"
"I told him about it, but he didn't say if he'd make it. I guess he won't, or he'd be here already."
Chebet nodded, though her eyes lingered on Becky for a moment before returning to the wet clothes in front of her.
Becky took a trough, fetched cold water from the river, and set it down beside her laundry. Chebet watched her silently as she began to wash. The rumor they had helped spread had been on Chebet's mind all morning, yet Becky seemed entirely oblivious, talking about the graduation as though nothing were wrong. Chebet hesitated, torn between curiosity and fear of Becky's reaction.
"People are talking, Becky."
Becky looked up, pausing. "What do you mean, people are talking?"
"Just tell me if it's true. Are you seeing someone?"
Bewilderment washed over Becky. That was so direct. For a moment she remained silent as she pondered over her question. "No!" She said finally. "How could you even think that of me?"
"I don't. But the rumors are everywhere."
"Rumours!"
"Have you They can't be true."
Chebet lowered her eyes. "Just be careful, Becky."
She finished wringing out her last garment, gathered her basket, and left. Becky watched her go until the sound of her footsteps faded along the bank. She turned back to the laundry, but the words echoed in the quiet space around her.
People are talking.
She couldn't understand why. For the first time that morning, the river felt unsettlingly still.
It was mid-afternoon by the time Becky finished and started home, the damp clothes heavy against her back. As she approached the compound, she heard Chepto's voice mixed with another. Recognizing the familiar tone instantly, her heart leapt. Her husband was home.
She quickened her steps, joy surging through her. Tesot stood in the yard holding Kiplimo. Wanting to drop her load and run to him, she managed to keep her composure, walking steadily forward.
Tesot turned at the sound of her approach. His eyes lit up, and a wide smile spread across his face. Handing Kiplimo back to Chepto, he opened his arms. Becky walked straight into his embrace. One of his arms circled her waist while the other held her close. She pressed her cheek against his chest, breathing in the comforting scent of his cologne.
"Welcome home, sweetheart," she murmured, looking up at him.
"Thank you," he replied gently. "I've missed you so much."
"I didn't know you were coming," she teased softly.
"I wasn't sure either," he explained. "Things happened quickly. I only asked for leave yesterday, and I wasn't sure it would be approved. But I couldn't miss your brother's graduation."
"I'm so glad you made it," she said, picking up his luggage. "Come inside."
Tesot followed her into the living room and settled onto the sofa. Watching her carry his bags toward the bedroom, he noticed the eager, animated bounce in her step. As always, Becky was curious about what he had brought her.
Opening his bag, she found a plastic parcel inside. She pulled out a black sleeveless dress—shorter than anything she owned. Beneath it lay a set of small children's clothes and a carton containing matching high-heeled shoes. Slipping into the dress and heels, she checked herself in the mirror. Did Tesot realize how much a style like this would provoke Pabonya?
Still, she stepped out into the living room to show him.
"Whoa!" Tesot exclaimed, delight dancing in his eyes. "I knew it would look stunning on you."
"Thank you. I love it," Becky said, a genuine smile playing on her lips.
"How have things been here?" he asked, pouring tea from the flask Chepto had brought in.
Becky hesitated, tempted to speak of Pabonya's visits and his harsh words, but she refused to cloud the joy of his return. That could wait until after the graduation.
"Everything is fine," she replied, suppressing her underlying frustration. "We finished planting the maize last week. In two weeks, it'll need weeding."
"Good work," he nodded approvingly.
Becky returned to the bedroom, changed back into her everyday clothes, and rejoined him. "Enjoy your tea. I'll hang these clothes to dry and start lunch. You must be starving."
Outside, she draped the wet laundry over the line and asked Chepto to catch one of the cocks and boil water. Tesot loved chicken with ugali, and she wanted to welcome him properly.
Within two hours, the meal was ready. Becky served Chepto first, then carried the main dish into the other house where Tesot waited.
"You have no idea how much I missed your cooking," Tesot said between bites.
"That makes me happy," she replied, her heart warming.
After lunch, she led him out to inspect the maize field. Tesot was thoroughly impressed, praising her management of the farm in his absence. The young shoots were already sprouting green against the dark soil.
That night, when they went to bed, Becky fell into his arms with the hunger of a long absence—and it was good.
Later, however, Tesot woke suddenly in the dark, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily.
"What is it?" Becky whispered, sitting up in alarm.
"A nightmare," he gasped, wiping his forehead. "The worst I've ever had."
"Tell me."
"I was with Uncle Pabonya," he began slowly, his voice shaking. "We had gone to see an Orgoiyot about a problem in the clan. The Orgoiyot told me I was the only one who could save us—if I drank from a bottle he handed me."
"What was in it?"
"Tick pesticide. The sealed liquid we use on cattle. I was terrified."
"Did you drink it?"
"No, I refused. But Uncle tried to force me. I started shouting, begging for another way, but he kept telling me there wasn't one."
"And then?"
"He pressed it into my hands... and then I woke up."
"Oh, my dear," Becky murmured, gently rubbing his shoulder. "It was just a nightmare. Try to sleep."
Tesot lay back down, staring up at the dark ceiling as the unsettling horror of the dream hung in the room.
Becky remained awake long after his breathing slowed back into sleep. The night was hushed, broken only by the distant croaking of frogs and the wind whispering against the eaves. Her mind refused to rest. She had longed for his return, but now fear pressed heavily on her chest.
Should she tell him?
She watched the rise and fall of his chest in the pale moonlight. He looked peaceful, exhausted from his journey. Burdening him now felt unbearable. She wanted to protect him from the bitterness that had crept into their lives—Pabonya's threat, the venom in his voice, and the rumor coiling around her reputation. Yet if she waited, what if Pabonya's lies reached Tesot through someone else first? Would he trust her, or would doubt creep in?
She remembered Rebecca's warning: He wants to destroy you. Be careful.
Becky closed her eyes, drawing a deep breath. She decided to wait—at least until her brother's graduation was over. She would let Tesot enjoy these few days at home in peace. Afterward, she would tell him everything: Pabonya's threats, the spreading rumors, and the fear keeping her awake. And if Pabonya brought his lies before the elders, Tesot would already know the truth from her lips.
For tonight, she would hold her tongue out of love, holding onto the hope that tomorrow would dawn gently before any storm broke.
Inching closer, she rested her hand lightly over his chest, anchoring herself to the steady beat of his heart.
Tomorrow, she whispered silently to herself, blinking back tears. Tomorrow, if I must.
And in that quiet resolve, Becky finally allowed sleep to claim her.