CHORALE SANDERS (THE NOVELLA) [CHAPTER TWO - WHERE ARE YOU BABY?]

A little after sunset, Mama Rica noticed Kay’s red Mercedes-Benz Vision EQS pull into the driveway. She sat in one of the armless chairs facing the floor-to-ceiling glass windows in the living room. She had remained there ever since Chorale left.

With his navy-blue suit slung over his shoulder, Kay walked into the house looking exhausted. During the flight home, he had felt restless. All he wanted was to return early, take a shower, and wait for Chorale to come back from the hospital where she worked.

He had missed her terribly. Since leaving for the business trip, he had barely spoken to her. And during the few moments they talked, she had sounded different — frightened, almost as if she was in pain. He hadn’t liked that at all. He wanted to return home to be with her.

That was why he had declined the offer to celebrate with his employees and partners after closing the deal with Newmont Automobiles. He simply told them to go ahead without him. Someone far more important was waiting for him at home.

“Hey! Mamacita, I miss you!” he called as he entered the house, rushing forward to hug her.

But just as quickly as he had entered, he rushed back out to remove his shoes — something Chorale constantly reminded him to do — before returning inside.

Mama Rica did not respond as she usually would.

“Yeah… hello, Kay,” she said quietly.

It was then that he noticed her expression. She looked like she had been crying. He knelt before her and took her hands in his.

“Mama Rica, why are you crying? What’s wrong?”

“She’s gone, Kay,” was all she managed to say.

His heart began to race. “What do you mean she’s gone? Who is gone?”

“It’s Chorale, Kay. She packed her things and left.”

“She packed her things and left? Where did she go?” His voice trembled.

“She only said she had to leave,” Mama Rica replied, breaking into fresh tears.

Kay struggled to comprehend her words. He had done nothing to make her want to leave — or so he believed. And where could she have gone? She had never done anything like this before.

On the few occasions when she traveled to oversee her building project in another town, he had always accompanied her. Even after the house was completed, she had been reluctant to move in. She preferred staying with him. Those who did not know them well even assumed they were married. In all their eight years together, he could not recall a time when their disagreements had driven her to leave.

The only serious conflict he remembered was when jealousy had gotten the better of him. Misled by one of the nurses, he had assaulted one of her colleagues. Chorale had been furious that day and had threatened to leave. He had begged repeatedly, and she agreed to stay only after he apologized. That had been years ago.

He rushed upstairs to retrieve his other phone to call her — the one he had used during the trip had run out of battery.

When he entered their bedroom, a chill ran down his spine. The room looked half empty.

She had really left.

His heart pounded as he dialed her number, but the call failed. He tried again and again, with the same result.

Where was she?

He called her sister, Valerie. Luckily, the call went through.

“Hello, Val.”

“Hey, Kay. How are you?” she asked.

“I can’t find Chorale, Val. Mama Rica says she left the house hours ago with a packed suitcase,” he said, panic evident in his voice.

“Wow… that’s strange. Did you two argue or anything?”

“No. I just got back from a business trip and heard this.”

“That is strange. Try calling home to ask Mom and Dad if she’s there, then get back to me later. I’m still driving home from work.”

Valerie was interning with a law firm and still had a few years left in law school.

“Alright. Thank you.”

He called her parents, but they said they had not heard from Chorale all day. His worry deepened.

Chorale had very few friends — only two that he knew of: Abena and Fatima, whom she had met at university. He was about to call Fatima when he remembered Chorale mentioning that she was out of the country and difficult to reach. He called Abena instead, but she said the last time she had spoken to Chorale was three days earlier, and nothing had seemed wrong.

The only place he could think to check was her new house, nearly seven hours away from Accra. But he did not hesitate. He had to find her that night.

He needed his Chorale.

It was half past seven when he left the house. Mama Rica had begged to accompany him, but he insisted she stay behind — in case Chorale returned. Just in case.

He drove all the way to a developing town near Cape Coast called Saltpond, where Chorale’s new house was located. Six months earlier, she had chosen Saltpond over Lakeside Estate when deciding where to build. She loved its quiet distance from the industrial city — serene and calm.

He arrived in four hours. The massive black sensor gates opened automatically as his car approached. Her car was not parked outside, but he convinced himself she might have traveled without it. She had to be here.

She had given him spare keys only the previous week, right after the building was completed. He said a silent prayer before unlocking the door. Turning on the lights, he looked around.

The house was fully furnished and decorated just as she wanted. Loveseats, chaise lounges, and armless chairs in various shades of purple were arranged throughout the spacious living room. Floor-to-ceiling curtains in another shade of purple framed the glass walls, revealing the outside when drawn apart.

He smiled faintly. Such a copycat.

In one corner stood a black dining table and chairs. The house contained four bedrooms, a large kitchen, a gym, and an expansive living room.

He had initially disliked her desire to have a place of her own — his house was more than large enough for both of them. But over the years, he had come to admire her independence. She preferred to do things herself, to make her own way in the world.

He went upstairs and searched every room. There was no sign of her.

He searched the entire house again.

Nothing.

Fear began to overwhelm him.

He collapsed into the nearest chaise lounge and buried his face in his hands. Where could she be? Why was she leaving him? What had he done wrong?

His life had changed for the better since meeting her. Everything he did, he did with her in mind. She made him want to be a better man. She made him want to be himself. Most of all, she had taught him how to love.

“Come back, baby,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Where are you?”