Original subtitles

Previously onBob Hearts Abishola...

When you see Bob, tell him I'm happy for him.

I will.

He doesn't talk to me anymore.

Well, that might be because you hurt him very badly.

Yeah.

-When you cheated on him. -Mm-hmm.

With his childhood friend.

Hang on. There are two sides to that story.

Oh. What is your side?

Well, I don't come off real good in that one, either.

Bob has to present himself to Abishola's family.

If they don't like him,

they can forbid the marriage.

So, you telling me if Bob

rubs some second cousin the wrong way,

-you can't marry him? -ABISHOLA: No.

-I still can. -KEMI: But she

can never return to Nigeria.

-Or Texas. -Huh?

I have family there.

Poor sock man.

He tries to give you a diamond ring,

and suddenly, he's proposing to a whole village.

It's not the whole village.

At most, it will be 200 people.

Excuse me, ma'am.

That is a beautiful ring.

Ah, thank you. It was a gift.

Someone must love you very much to give you a ring like that.

Eh, I suppose so.

And do you have the same feelings towards him

that he has towards you?

Eh, I suppose so.

You love screwing with me, don't you?[chuckles] I do.

[both laugh]

[phone ringing]

Need to get that?

Uh...

Oh, it's my mother.

I'll call her back later.

I could say hi.

That is why I will call her back later.

We're getting married. I have to meet her eventually.

Why are you rushing? Enjoy this time

while you do not know her.[chuckles]

Are you worried about what she'll think of me?

Because I'll have you know,

I'm very charming.

I did not like you when I first met you.

But I wore you down. That's my specialty.

You are ridiculous.

Ridiculously charming.

Come on, call her back. Let me say hi.

All right.

But there will be other family members in attendance

who will want to speak to you, as well.

That's fine. How many we talking?

Uncles, aunties, cousins, grandparents.

11 or 12.

Put the phone down.

-What? -Put it down.

I'm not ready.

You set me up.

Eh, I suppose so.

["Ifanla" by Sola Akingbola playing]

Hey, guys, am I pronouncing this right?

E nle ma?

Are you trying to respectfully greet

a female elder in my language?

-Yes. -Then no.

Was I close?

No.

All right, forget that. Traditionally,

I'm supposed to lie on the ground when I meet her family?

-What if we meet in a bathroom? -Oh,

Mr. Wheeler, if you meet them in a bathroom,

you have already done something terribly wrong.

It is also acceptable to bow, bending at the waist,

dropping your hands to your feet.

Yeah. Maybe if I did a little stretching first,

I could pull that off.

Mr. Wheeler,

why are you putting yourself through this?

Because it's tradition.

You got engaged while she was still married.

You have already stomped on tradition

like a burning bag of doo-doo left at your doorstep

by local pranksters.

I keep telling you,

when you stomp on the feces, the neighborhood kids win.

And,

Mr. Wheeler,

your ignorance has already gotten you this far.

-Why stop now? -KOFO: Goodwin is right.

Lean into your American naivete.

When you meet her mother,

wear a cowboy hat and a big belt buckle.

And say...

[American accent]: "Howdy, ma'am."

Thanks for all your help.

Y'all come back, now, you hear?

You are very good with accents.

Much obliged, pardner.

[laughs]

Here you go, sweetie.

Tomorrow's Bride.

Oh, thank you.[chuckles]

Apparently, the brides of tomorrow

are all white and one Asian lady,

but you get the idea.

KEMI: Ah,

you are finally planning the wedding.

I will send you a list of dates I still have open,

but act quickly.

This dress

would look -so beautiful on you. -Oh.

Yes, it would.[chuckles]

But my mother would hate it.

Oh, also this one.

Oh, and this one.

Who cares what she thinks?

It's your day.

A wedding is all about the bride.

Maybe in America. In Nigeria,

it's all about the family.

The bride is lucky to be invited.

ABISHOLA: Mm-hmm.

The family uses the wedding

as a way to show off their wealth,

and your friends use it as a way to show off themselves.

KEMI: Her first wedding was perfect.

Hundreds of guests,

all of them looking at me.

What about Abishola?

She saw me, too.

I remember being so upset about my dress.

-Ugh. I hated it. -So what? Everybody did.

But your mother loved it, and that is what's important.

GLORIA: Well, around here,

you don't have to worry about what anyone else wants.

They just go to weddings to get drunk

and hook up with some second cousin.

-Mm-hmm. -We have that, too.

It was a third cousin, and I was not drunk.

Oh.

That's an ugly dress.

Your mother would love it.

[knock on door]

Hello, Bob.

E kaale, Uncle.

Are you okay?

Do you have a cramp?

No, I'm bowing in respect.

And cramping.

Abishola is at work, and Olu

"is at Bible study."

I did the quotes because she is actually getting

her "hair dyed."

That did not need the quotes.

I actually came to see you.

How wonderful.

Would you like some tea?

I also have some fun-sized candy bars

hidden around the apartment.

I'm okay.

Ah, suit yourself.

It's come to my attention

that I did not court Abishola

in the traditional Nigerian way.

[laughs] You certainly did not.

Well,

for the wedding, I want to do it right,

and I was hoping you could help guide me

through the process.

It would be an honor for me to be an emissary

from my family to yours.

That's great. Now, I was hoping we could... Traditionally,

you would bow again, but don't worry about it.

Oh, thanks.

[chuckles]: You're really not going to bow.

Well, I guess that's why we are doing this. [grunts]

Uh, I did a little research,

and I wrote my letter of intent

stating my case to marry your beautiful niece.

[crying]: I see your mission is to make me cry today.

Give it to me.

I took a few creative liberties,

-but I think it's okay. -Hmm.

There is no immediate -mention of God. -Is that a problem?

Not if you're writing this letter to Satan.

Uh, give me a pen.

In the next paragraph,

you are asking permission to marry Abishola.

Was that not right?

It is not.

It must be from the perspective of your family

asking her family for permission.

-Got it. Great tip. -No. No.

What is this?

Oh, I used the flower as a metaphor.

Lovely. But no.

[laughs]

No.

What was the name

of your neighbor I threw a drink on at your first wedding?

Abeni.

No, the other one. She has a mustache.

-Ewatomi. -That's right.

Make sure you put her at my table

so I can show off my sexy pharmacist boyfriend.

[chuckles] I will have Chukwuemeka

grow a mustache that will put hers to shame.

I do not think Ewatomi will be there.

No? Is she dead?

Did my curse work?

She will not be invited. I have not spoken to her in years.

[scoffs] So what?

So, suddenly you're only inviting

people you speak to? [chuckles]

-Yes. -You don't speak to your mother's hairdresser.

Are you saying she cannot come?

Yes.

Oh, my God.

You are considering a small wedding.

If I had a drink,

I would throw it in your face.

What is the point of putting myself on display

for everybody I know?

And their friends?

And their friends' friends?

To show off your wonderful life.

I do not want to show off.

But I do.

Abishola, what has happened to you?

This is the way we do things.

It does not have to be.

Okay, but people would talk.

I am a divorced Nigerian woman marrying a white man.

People are already talking.

And that is why you have a big wedding--

to distract them from your ridiculous relationship.

I just want the day to be about Bob and me.

Is that so wrong?

Yes!

But you are my best friend,

so I support your desires.

Thank you, Kemi.

Your selfish, selfish desires.

Bobby,

you're just in time to celebrate.

What's the occasion?

We found a bottle of champagne.

Had a nice talk with your buddy Tunde, by the way.

-What? -Yeah.

He said

part of being an emissary

is making sure the groom's family

isn't hiding a crazy cousin in the attic.

What'd you tell him?

I said we don't keep her in the attic.

[laughs]

That's not funny.

Whatever. Tunde laughed.

Tunde called me, too.

I told him it's none of his business.

What happens in the family stays in the family.

But nothing's happening in the family.

That's exactly what I told him.

Why are you saying it like that?

Like what?

He didn't call me. [laughs]

Why didn't he call me?

I don't want him calling anybody.

He can call whoever he wants,

he's not getting a thing.

We're like the Corleones-- we don't rat on family.

[phone ringing]

Oh, no. It's-it's Tunde.

What do I do?

[phone continues ringing]

Well, you heard the lady. We don't rat on family.

Bob,

what are you doing here?

I was in the neighborhood, and I saw

you posted a picture of your moin moin.

[laughing]: Oh, the shapes they mold them in are so whimsical.

Hey...

did you really have to call my family?

I was just trying to be thorough.

But you know me.

And the Bundys thought they knew Ted.

This was supposed to be you helping me out,

maybe putting in a good word with the in-laws?

Well, I am helping you out.

I am making sure you succeed.

And I should not tell you this, but you are doing well.

Great to hear.

So are we done with interrogating my family?

Not quite. I also called your ex-wife.

Why would you do that?

To better understand why your first marriage failed.

All right, well, what did she say?

Oh, I don't know. I haven't talked to her yet.

Hey, Bobby Socks.

Oh, you are killing me, Tunde.

Relax, Bob. I'm not gonna say anything bad.

He has major trust issues.

Tunde, please don't do this.

I am just trying to help you

avoid making the same mistakes with Abishola.

I didn't make a mistake with this one.

She had an affair with my best friend.

That is a part of the story, but is it the whole book?

Chapter 12: The Mistress Named

MaxDot Therapeutic Hosiery.

UNCLE TUNDE: Interesting.

That is the name of his company.

His first and only love.

Can I get a beer?

Alcohol, his other mistress.

"Alcohol."

EBUNOLUWA: Olu, these were the colors

I was thinking for the iro and the buba.

All I can see is your ceiling.

Is that better?

No.

Ah, I recognize this ceiling.

Hello, Mommy.

Hello, Abishola.

We are discussing your wedding.

It's very exciting.

I would like to be a part of this conversation.

Why?

Abishola,

send me your measurements.

Bimpe needs to start on your dress.

Oh, that won't be necessary.

I can get a dress from here.

Don't be ridiculous!

You will not wear a dress from Detroit.

Bimpe will make it.

And if she cannot,

I know several seamstresses in Lagos.

But we will not be using your seamstresses.

We will be using Bimpe.

Bimpe is half blind and has arthritis.

I am in charge of the clothes, Olu.

You are in charge of the food!

At least there will be

no problem with the food this time.

What is that supposed to mean?

At Abishola's first wedding,

you ran out of hot pepper soup.

There is no greater crime!

We ran out because Tunde ate bowl after bowl after bowl!

It is a wedding!

One must be prepared to feed an army of Tundes.

Aah!

When did you first start feeling unhappy?

Oh, well,

I guess it was when I realized

that Bob loved making and selling socks more than me.

That's not true. I was just building a business.

And destroying a marriage.

He would... he would come home exhausted,

have a couple of drinks

and pass out -on the couch. -Alcohol.

How could I not feel abandoned?

Did you make these feelings known to Bob?

It's hard to be heard when you aren't even seen.

Oh, my God.

I see you, Lorraine.

Oh, my God.

Can you blame me

for having an affair?

Yes!

Was it an affair?

Or was it a cry for help?

It was an affair.

She slept with my best friend.

You drove me into Gary's bed.

Oh, really? It's my fault?

Well, who drove you into the bouncy castle

at his kid's birthday party?

How'd you know about that?

The clown owed me a favor.

Now, this is Gary Gendelhoff?

-Yes. -Do you happen to have his phone number?

Oh... my... God.

Planning a wedding is tougher than I thought.

I tried to warn you.

Before we go any further, I got to tell you something.

Mm. My job is very important to me.

-I know that. -It takes a lot of my time

and attention, but if it ever feels like

I'm putting it above you, please let me know.

That will not be a problem.

You sure? 'Cause sometimes I'll work a 70-hour week.

Is that a little or a lot for you?

I love you so freaking much.

I know.

Mmm.

We should just get married at city hall.

-There's an idea. -Mm.

It is the only way we'll have a say in our wedding.

I'm down with that.

We have to bring Dele, of course.

-I want him there. -Absolutely.

And your uncle would be heartbroken,

so we should ask him and Auntie to come, too.

Mm. If they are coming, we should also bring your family.

Do we have to?

Yes.

And you should invite Kemi.

Do I have to?[laughs]

There's a couple of guys at work I'd love to have there.

I wouldn't be getting married -if it wasn't for them. -Mm.

It would be nice to have Gloria

and a few of my nurse friends there, too.

This is getting to be quite a crowd for a courthouse.

I guess my mother and auntie are going

to get their wedding after all.

I guess so.

Are you disappointed?

No.

It doesn't matter where it's at,

or who's there, or what anybody's wearing.

All I'll be looking at is you.

I'm going to be in a dress made by Bimpe.

Is that a famous designer?

It is a blind arthritic woman in Lagos.

Does she do tuxedos?

[laughs]

[Skype ringing]

Uh, Mommy, I would like you to meet my fiancé, Bob Wheeler.

E nle ma.

What took you so long to introduce yourself to me?

Oh, that was my fault, Mommy.

I did not ask you.

I asked Bob Wheeler.

Uh, that was my fault.

I was just nervous

about meeting the most respected woman in the family.

I admire your attempts at flattery.

I have received your gift-- a new tablet.

Do you think you can buy my approval?

I was hoping. [laughs]

Hey, look, not finding me funny runs in the family.

Tunde speaks highly of you.

He told me your credit score.

Very impressive.

I'm just happy I have a great job

where I can help provide for you,

your daughter and your grandson.

Abishola?

Yes, Mommy.

I like him.

I like him, too.