“It’s all right, Karen. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”
“I’m really very sorry, Camille. I guess Jonathan thinks Maxim is your boyfriend.”
Karen still has that pained look in her eyes and I’m sure there’s more going on. When the waiter returns with our drinks, we momentarily stop talking. I take a sip of the glass of wine I ordered, eyeing Karen over the rim of my glass. Desperate to change the subject to anything but Jonathan, I decide to ask her what the hell is going on with Mike.
“So... you and Mike were there?” As soon as I mention his name, Karen looks alert. “What’s up with you two?”
Karen shrugs. “I don’t know.”
I carefully put my glass down. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
“Of course I do,” she sighs. “The point is, I don’t really know what to do about him. I love him, it’s that simple. And I know he loves me. He just doesn’t want to admit it and I don’t know why.”
Karen gives me a plaintive look and I can tell that it’s bothering her more than she wants to let on. She loves him, even after all this time. Mike disappeared five years, ago, together with the band, and as far as I know Karen hasn’t been in touch with him during that time.
“Did you talk to him about it?”
“I tried, but as soon as I steer the subject that way, he clams up. I suspect it has something to do with his past. He says he’s afraid of commitment.”
“What about you?”
Again, she shrugs as if she couldn’t care less. “I try to enjoy every moment we have together. Even though he doesn’t want to commit, I only want to be with him. If I ask too many questions, he shuts down. That’s the last thing I want.”
The pain in her voice cuts right through my soul. I’d do anything to make Karen happy, but this is something I can’t help her with. And yet, I worry. Because what could be worse than falling in love with a man who doesn’t want to commit? I understand she’s willing to give up certain things for him, but I can’t just stand by and watch her discount her own needs. If Mike really likes her, he should realize the same thing.
“When will you see him again?”
“We’regoing out for dinner tonight.”
“Maybe that would be a good time to bring up the subject,” I suggest gingerly.
“Let’s see.”
The waiter appears with our food and Karen quickly changes the subject. I can only hope she will solve her problems with Mike. She deserves to be happy. And if Mike is the man to make her happy, I hope they’ll figure out a way to make their relationship work.
We spend the rest of the day together. I help Karen pick a dress for that night. One thing is for sure: Karen will pull out all the stops in order to seduce Mike tonight. I hope she knows what she’s doing.
Present day
Jonathan
Three long days I’ve been waiting for a call, and Camille still hasn’t reached out. Had I really expected any different? In all of the five years we’ve been apart she has never tried to reach out. Me? I’ve had my phone in my hands on so many occasions, about to key in her number so I could call her or text her. But the way things went down has always stopped me at the last moment. Camille should know I won’t accept being ignored, though. Not anymore. I deserve some answers.
That day at the hospital I was so shocked I just walked out, giving everything up in the process. But that’s not me anymore. This time, I won’t be shut out. This time, I will fight for the truth to be told. I didn’t, back then, but nothing will stop me now.
At the moment the preparations for the concert are in full swing. The stage has been built up and we’re going to have our first rehearsal today. I’m just about to sit down behind my drums when Steven approaches me. He’s new in security and works together with Mike to keep us safe during our gigs.
“Someone’s waiting for you at the entrance.”
I look up at him in confusion. I wasn’t expecting any visitors. It’s probably one of those nosy reporters again – I really don’t want to deal with that right now.
“Just tell them to come back later. We’re about to start playing, I don’t have time now.”
“You may want to receive this visitor,” Steven says in an urgent tone of voice. “He says he’s your brother.”
Shit!
Well, that was to be expected. Everyone knows we’re back in Belgium, so inevitably my family found out too. But why did Vincent decide to visit me here? Does this mean he’s still together with Camille? In that case, it’s fairly obvious that Vincent showed up here to tell me to back off because Camille told him about me and he wants to make it clear that she belongs to him. But then who the hell is Maxim?
Max glances over his shoulder. “Just go. We’ll start without you.”
I hope I’ll finally be getting some answers. I follow Steven to the entrance and my brother slides into view. He looks a lot older than he used to, and he has a worried expression on his face. Vincent’s hair is shorter than I remember and he looks very business-like because of the smart suit he’s wearing. I wonder if he’s wearing it for a special occasion... or perhaps he became a doctor after all.
As soon as Vincent spots me, the worry dissolves from his face and he beams at me. Looks like he’s not here to pick a fight, at the very least.
“Jonathan, I’m so glad to see you’re back in Belgium! I hope I’m not disturbing?”
“Well, we were about to launch into our first rehearsal, but I’ll make time, no problem.” I cast a sideward glance at Steven, who is following our conversation with interest. “Wanna go for a drink down the street?” It’s not that I don’t tell the band everything, but I’d appreciate some more privacy for this conversation.
“If it’s not too much trouble.”
“Of course not.”
Side by side, we walk silently to the bar on the corner. When we sit down, we look at each other and it’s clear neither of us knows what to say. Or where to start. At long last, it’s Vincent who breaks the silence.
“So you’re back for now?”
“Looks like it. How is, uhm... how’s Camille?”
My brother’s worried frown returns. This is the moment he’s going to tell me how sickeningly happy he is with her. I brace for impact, but what he says next completely takes me by surprise.
“Why did you never call her back, Jonathan?”
What?
“What do you mean?” I reply in surprise. “She never called me. I never heard from her again ever since that day at the hospital.”
Vincent’s expression turns sour. “So Joe never gave you the message?”
“No, Joe never said a word. What’s going on, Vincent?”
“I don’t know what happened, Jonathan, but I always suspected something wasn’t adding up. Camille did call you. Several times, in fact. She left an important message for you with your manager.”
It’s like someone punched me in the gut. Camille called me? And she left me a message through Joe? I was expecting to finally get some answers, but the questions keep piling up.
“So what was the important message?”
Vincent scratches his head. “I think you’d better discuss it with Camille herself.” He scribbles something on a piece of paper he takes out of his pocket. “This is our address. I think she’ll be home in the afternoon.”
All kinds of thoughts go through my mind. I didn’t miss the mention of ‘their’ address, either. So Camille and Vincent are still together? Why else would they live together?
Okay, now I really need to find out what the hell happened, and this time I won’t leave until I know everything.
“I gotta go, Vincent. I need to talk to Camille.” Getting up, I throw a twenty-euro bill onto the table. But before I can rush off, Vincent puts his hand on mine.
“Try to stay calm, Jonathan. I know what Camille means to you, and I know what you still mean to her.”
I inhale deeply. Maybe it’s better to calm down first.
“We’ll see each other soon. I promise.”
Two and a half years ago
Vincent
It’s the middle of the night when Camille and I are woken up by Maxim crying. He doesn’t wake up at nighttime anymore these days, and from the way he’s crying it’s clear to us at once that something is wrong.
We go to his small bedroom and find him sitting up in bed. Camille lifts him onto her lap and caresses his hair. “What’s wrong, little man?”
Maxim looks up at her, but before he can answer the question, he starts to throw up. Camille holds him lovingly and waits until it’s over, trying to make as little of it land on the floor as she can. When Maxim stops, he is white as a sheet. I run to the kitchen and fetch a towel to clean up the mess. When I return to the bedroom, Camille has taken Maxim to the bathroom. Again, I hear him vomit and I dump the towel on the floor. I walk over to the bathroom and find Camille there, with Maxim in her arms.
“What do you think is wrong with him?” I ask.
“I don’t know, but he’s running a fever. Can you call the pediatrician? I’m afraid it’s something serious.”
“Okay, I’ll be right back.” I run to the bedroom and grab my cell from the bedside table. I have our house doctor on speed dial, so I try him first. Who knows, he might be working this night. His secretary answers the phone and tells me Dr Smith is on vacation, but the substitute doctor is available. I promise her we’ll be there within fifteen minutes and hang up.
I quickly throw on some clothes and go back to the bathroom, bringing a blanket to cover Maxim and keep him warm. Camille is still sitting on the floor with her back against the bathtub and Maxim in her arms. Apparently he has fallen asleep, but he still looks pale as death.
“Let me hold him for a while so you can get dressed. The doctor can see us in fifteen minutes.”
I carefully lift Maxim from her arms and wrap him in the blanket. A few minutes later, we’re both in the car – me driving and Camille in the passenger seat with Maxim in her arms. He’s very hot and his hair is stuck to his sweaty face. Once we get there, we’re told to sit in the waiting room. The doctor will be with us shortly.
We don’t have to wait long before we are called in. But we both freeze in our tracks when we see who the doctor is.
“Vincent?” he exclaims.
“Dad?” I say.
He takes off his glasses, his gaze darting from me to Camille before landing on Maxim. I’ve hardly been in touch with my parents after I moved out. I do run into them from time to time, but they never see Camille and Maxim. After Jonathan made his choice not to be there for Camille and his own son, I was livid. I blamed him and couldn’t believe he would do a terrible thing like that. But then, my anger was diverted – redirected at our father. The way he’d always treated Jon had caused my brother to have a very bad example of a father figure. In my mind, this became the reason for Jonathan refusing to choose for his family.
I turn to Camille. “We’re leaving.”
When Camille moves, Maxim suddenly wakes up. “Mommy... is that the doctor?” he mumbles.
My father approaches them, putting a hand on Camille’s arm. “Please come in. At least let me have a look at him. You can get straight out after if you want.”
Camille shoots me a questioning look, but I know her mother heart has already made the decision. She steps into the doctor’s office and my father follows suit. He stops in the doorway and looks at me over his shoulder. “Are you coming?”
* * *
It turns out Maxim is suffering from food poisoning. Nothing to be done except taking a lot of rest. We need to make sure he drinks a lot and keep an eye on him. If he loses too much body fluid, we need to drive him to the hospital.
“Everything will be fine, Camille,” my dad reassures her. “The two of you have brought a strong child into the world.”
Camille looks up at me in surprise, the question clear in her eyes.
“Can you wait for me outside?” I tell her. “I need to talk to my dad for a moment.”
“Okay.” Camille turns to my father. “Thank you, Mr Goethals.”
My father caresses Maxim’s little head. “You’re welcome. Get well soon, little man.”
As soon as Camille and Maxim have left the office, I turn toward my father again, who has sat down at his desk and is now looking at me.
“Your mother will be thrilled to know that she has a grandson,” he says haltingly. “Why... why didn’t you tell us about him?”
“Maxim’s not mine.”
“But he looks exactly like...”
The silence stretches between us when my dad stops talking. In that silence, I see him draw the only logical conclusion – that Maxim looks like my brother because Jonathan is the father.
“Why isn’t Jonathan taking care of him, then?”
I get up from my chair and lean on my two fists as I plant them on top of the desk. I address my father, my face hovering inches from his. “Because Jonathan never learned what a real father should behave like,” I hiss.
I turn around and leave the office, wrap my arm around Camille’s shoulders and take her outside.
That is the last time I see my father.
Present day
Camille
I‘m quietly watching a movie, sitting on the couch in our apartment. Vincent has gone out for dinner with a few colleages and Maxim’s sleeping already. I sit up when someone knocks on the front door. Glancing at my watch, I wonder who would drop by at this hour unannounced.
“Who’s there?” I call out.
“It’s me, Karen.”
I quickly open the door to reveal my best friend. Her clothes are soaked, her hair’s sticking to her wet face, her mascara has washed down her face and she’s crying. As soon as she sets eyes on me, she begins to cry even harder. I take her hand, pull her inside and close the door behind us.
Gingerly, I steer her toward the sofa. “What happened?”
It takes her a while to calm down, but when she does, she looks at me and says: “I told Mike I love him.”
“Okay...” I say, unsure of what to say next. Putting my hand on her leg, I encourage her to continue. The fact that she’s sitting here on my couch crying her eyes out probably means her declaration of love didn’t go down well.
“He couldn’t even look at me anymore, Camille. I knew I was gonna screw this up. Why did I push myself to tell him, for fuck’s sake?”
Now she really begins to wail. I pull her into my arms and gently caress her back.
“This is not your fault, Karen. Shh. You had to tell him how you felt.”
I’m just about to bring out the usual comment about everything going to be all right when someone else knocks on my door. Guess who...
I open the door and this time it’s Mike who spills into my hallway in clothes drenched in rain water. He dries off his hair with his hand and shoots me a worried look.
“Is she here?”
He sounds pretty desperate to me and I quickly nod to end his suffering. He scuttles past me and makes a beeline for Karen on my couch, but then he turns around and gives me a searching look. I give him a small nod of encouragement. Whatever’s going on between these two, it’s about time they talked about it. Karen is crazy about Mike, but for some reason Mike is afraid to admit that he’s just as crazy about her. I disappear into the kitchen and hope they can sort things out.
Of course I tell myself I shouldn’t eavesdrop, but it’s stronger than me. I try to keep quiet and get as close to the thin wall as I can to hear what’s being said. I’m not ready to whip out a glass and put it against the wall to amplify the sound, but I’m close.
“Why did you run out like that?” he says.
“Wow, Mike, take one fucking guess.”
“You don’t understand, Karen. It’s not you, it’s me.”
Karen lets out a hysterical laugh. “That’s all you have to tell me, Mike?” she replies sarcastically. “The usual lines? I thought you kne
w me better than that.”
Mike lets out a labored sigh. “I know what it sounds like, but it’s actually true in this case. I can’t love anyone, Karen. And that is a fact.”
I can no longer contain myself and stick my head around the door. Karen is just getting up, heading for Mike to hit his chest with both hands. “Stop saying that,” she fumes. “It’s bullshit! I want to know why. The real reason, not some lame excuse.”
Mike takes her hands and waits until she looks up. “Because everyone I love, dies,” he states.
The sudden silence in the apartment is one you could cut with a knife. Karen gapes at him with tears in her eyes.
“What are you talking about?”
Mike swallows audibly, then points to the couch. They sit down together and I see Mike puckering up the courage to tell her everything.
“When I turned eighteen, my best friends threw me a party. Lola and I had been together for more than a year. She was everything to me. We were inseparable. She and my best friend Bart had organized the party together. My younger brother Kjel was there too. We had so much fun – dancing, laughing, drinking. The sun was already rising by the time we called it a day. We all headed outside when Kjel asked me if we could take a ride in my car. I’d been doing odd jobs in my uncle’s auto shop for two years and saved every cent to be able to buy my own ride. So we all got in. Me behind the wheel, Lola in the passenger’s seat, and Bart and Kjel in the back.”
Mike takes a deep breath before continuing.
“We were at a stoplight, waiting, when another car lined up with mine. A sports car, filled with young people just like us who’d had a good time that night. The driver roared the engine and dared me to race him. Kjel and Bart started to egg me on, Lola wanted to talk me out of it. I chose to accept the dare. As soon as the light turned green, we both tore off, tires squealing. I was in the lead for a while when suddenly a dog came out of nowhere and crossed the street. Without thinking, I pulled at the wheel to swerve and avoid hitting the dog. It all happened so fast after that... the car flipped over a few times, landing on the roof eventually. There was shattered glass everywhere. Around us, people were screaming, but me and my friends were all so very quiet. I was upside down in the seatbelt, and when I looked aside I saw Lola hanging upside down too. I called out to her, but... she didn’t move. No one called out to me from the back seat either. It seemed to take forever before the paramedics showed up. I told them to help Lola and the others first. They sedated me to calm me down and I don’t remember much of what happened after that.”
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