Karen remains silent for a long time. She looks at Mike as the tears start to roll down his cheeks.
“When I woke up in the hospital, they told me everyone was dead. Everyone except me. Fate had taken my little brother, my girlfriend and my best friend in one fell swoop. And why? Because of me! I should never have gotten into that car, let alone race. They trusted me to take them home safely, and what did they get in return? My brother was only fifteen, he had his whole life ahead of him. And on that day, I vowed to myself never to commit to anyone like that ever again. Never love anyone again, Karen! I couldn’t do that to you.”
Karen and Mike sit there in silence for a few more moments. Finally Mike is the first one to get up. He kisses Karen on the crown of her head. “That’s why I can’t keep seeing you, Karen.”
He doesn’t look back when he walks to the door. When he sees me, he gives me a brief look and says: “Will you take good care of her?”
The lump in my throat makes it hard for me to say anything back, so I just nod.
As soon as Mike has closed the door behind him, I run to Karen and cradle her in my arms. She cries herself into an exhausted sleep and I get a blanket to cover her so she can sleep on the couch. Karen has been there for me for all those years, and now I will be there for her.
I understand Mike feels like this, but he was so young when it all happened. He made a mistake – that doesn’t mean he should forego his chance at love in life for good. I hope he and Karen can work things out, because there’s no way to tell what Karen will do if she loses him for real.
Present day
Jonathan
This can’t possibly be the right address. I look up at the ramshackle apartment building and down at the paper in my hand. Yep, this is the place Vincent wrote down for me. I take off my sunglasses and put it down on the passenger seat. After the meeting with my brother I had to know. I don’t care what it takes – I need answers to my questions. And this time I won’t allow Camille to get away before I know everything.
I walk over to the main door of the building and see it is ajar. This doesn’t seem like a safe place to live for Camille and it sure as hell doesn’t look anything like the house she used to live in. The elevator in the main hall is out of order, according to the scribbed sign on the doors. The paper looks weathered, so it must have been there for a while. Looks like I’ll have to take the stairs. I hope she’s in.
Nerves race through my body now that the moment of confrontation is near. I’ve waited for this for five years. That day at the hospital I was so angry I wouldn’t calm down no matter what anyone said. But now I’m hell-bent on finding out why she did what she did.
I go upstairs, taking two steps at a time and end up on the fourth floor. Voices are audible behind the wooden door and I hope this means Camille is home. My heart is beating in my throat and my hands feel clammy. Before I can change my mind, I knock at the door.
High heels click on the floor on the other side and the door swings open.
“I didn’t expect you back this soon,” Karen tells me in a cheerful voice, before she looks up and sees that it’s me. “Jonathan? What are you doing here?”
“Hi Karen. Nice to see you too.”
I can’t keep the sarcasm out of my voice. She glares at me and huffily crosses her arms in front of her chest.
“Is Camille in?” I ask.
But before Karen can answer that question, I hear a tiny voice calling out: “Mommy, mommy, mommy!”
A little boy appears next to Karen. She bends down so she can look him in the eye. “Mommy’s not home yet, Maxim. Why don’t you go and play in your room so Auntie Karen can talk to this gentleman over here?”
As soon as Karen calls me ‘this gentleman’, the little boy looks up at me and my heart seems to stop. In front of me is a mini version of me. His short, brown hairs are partly obscuring his green eyes when he curiously peers up at me. He’s holding two toy drumsticks in his right hand. If there was any doubt, that last detail has taken it away.
This boy doesn’t just happen to look exactly like me. Maxim is my son.
Why the hell did Camille decide to keep this from me? Even though I feel a burst of anger bubbling up, I contain it for the sake of my son. I don’t want to scare him. That’s why I follow Karen’s example. I, too, lean down and look him in the eye. “Hello, Maxim,” I say hesitantly. “What’s that you’re holding?”
He just gazes up at me speechlessly for a while, as Karen watches both him and me like a hawk. His eyes trail up from my shoes, past my legs and arms until his gaze rests on my face.
“Are you a giant?”
No matter how strange this whole situation is, I can’t help but beam at him. What an observant little guy. “No, I’m not a giant.” I point at the drumsticks in his little hand. “What do you have there?”
He proudly holds out his toys to me. “These are the sticks for my new drumkit. You want to see?”
I straighten to follow him in, but then Karen stops me.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she says.
I hold her gaze with mine. Then I lean into her and whisper in her ear, so hushed that only she can hear: “I don’t think keeping this from me was a very good idea, either. Nothing and no one will stop me now.”
Fortunately, Karen has the common sense to step aside. It is at that moment that I feel Maxim’s little hand in mine. I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything like this before. Gently, I pump his hand before I follow him to his room. He opens the door and there I am – it’s painted blue and there are glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling above his bed, which is to the right. In the middle of the room is a plastic toy drumkit with three drums and a cymbal.
“You want to hear me play, mister?”
Maxim’s eyes look up at me pleeadingly. Like I could ever refuse him.
“I’d be honored,” I say.
I’m about to sit down on the bed when he stops me. “No, you can’t sit there. The audience should be in front of the stage.”
He walks over to me and tugs at my hand so I follow him to a rug with Pixar’s Cars printed all over it. I didn’t know this was possible, but I think I just fell in love with my own son. When he finally has me where he wants me, I sit down cross-legged.
Maxim sits down on his stool, beats his sticks together and then starts drumming. There’s no rhythm to speak of and you couldn’t call it music if you tried. The quality of the drumkit is atrocious too, but I swear this is the most glorious drum solo I have ever heard. His face beams with pride and his smile is so radiant it blinds me. When he finishes, I start to applaud. He throws his sticks onto the floor and comes straight at me. Before I know what’s happening to me, he’s thrown himself into my arms, and I catch him. His green eyes, shining up at me like stars, look up at me with anticipation.
“Did you like it?”
“It was marvelous.”
He smiles at me, but then his face becomes serious all of a sudden. “It’s okay to say my drums don’t sound so good. Mommy bought the wrong set.” He gives me a sad look. “But Mommy doesn’t have money to buy a better one right now.”
What kind of life does Camille lead? The apartment leaves nothing to the imagination. I still can’t believe she didn’t tell me. There’s no need for her to live in these deplorable circumstances. I could have helped her. If only I had known. Why, for chrissakes, didn’t she tell me?
Maxim is still sitting in my lap and looks up at me. One thing is certain: he can’t be trapped between the two of us if we are going to have a fight. Does he know who his dad is? Or worse – does Camille have a boyfriend or husband who Maxim thinks of as his father?
I carefully lift Maxim off my lap. Maybe I should take him to a concert so he can see me play. “You know, Maxim, I have a real drumkit at home. If you want, you can come visit me and I can teach you how to play the drums.”
For a second it’s like fireworks are being lit behind his eyes, but then his expression changes as a
different thought seems to enter his mind. He looks solemn.
“I don’t think Mommy will let me,” he says sadly. “Mommy never lets me go anywhere.”
Like hell she won’t. It’s the first thing that comes to mind, but of course I don’t say it out loud in the presence of a small child. I gently caress his cheek. “Why don’t you let me take care of that. I’ll talk to your mommy.”
Again that radiant smile. “What’s your name?”
Daddy. I am so tempted to say it. But before I make a big reveal like that I need to talk to Camille first. “Jonathan. But my friends call me Sticks.”
“Can I call you Sticks too?” He looks up at me expectantly.
“Of course. Now, why don’t you go and play a bit more in your room while I talk to your aunt Karen. I’ll see you soon, Maxim.”
I take one last look at the room before I quietly close the door behind me. I can hardly believe that I have just been talking to my son. What bothers me most is that he doesn’t even know who his father is. Could it be Camille and Vincent told him that Vincent is his dad?
One thing’s for sure, Camille will no longer be able to avoid me. I have to be a part of my son’s life. I’ve missed so much already – I can’t bear the thought of missing even more. Karen is waiting for me in the hallway. I think she can tell from the look in my eyes that this isn’t going to be a very pleasant conversation.
Present day
Camille
I drag the groceries upstairs. That stupid elevator’s been out of order ever since we moved into this apartment. Vincent and I don’t always have it easy, but at least we got a roof over our heads. You’d think by now I’d gotten used to slogging up the stairs with heavy bags, but I haven’t. I hate this dump and I hope we can move somewhere else soon.
When I’ve almost reached our floor, I hear Karen’s voice telling someone ‘he’d better leave’. And when I hear the person she’s talking to respond, my heart skips a beat and one of the bags of groceries slips out of my hand, tumbling to the floor.
The sound of canned food hitting the floor doesn’t go unnoticed, because it only takes a second for Jonathan’s head to appear in the stairwell above me. I put the other bag down and make a run for it. Judge all you want, but I’m not ready for this confrontation yet. I run as fast as I can, without even knowing where I’m going.
Once I’m through the main hall and out the front door, I turn around and see Jonathan has already caught up with me. Of course he did – what the hell did I expect? For him to just let me go? I look left and right and decide on a whim to turn right, which is in the direction of the park I often take Maxim for walks. My legs hurt, but I don’t stop running.
“Camille! Hold up!”
Jonathan’s voice sounds commanding, but I don’t slow down. Just before I reach the park, I cross the street without looking. A car screeches to a halt, the driver swerving like mad to avoid hitting me.
Jonathan slams into me and we tumble down in the grass on the other side of the street. He flips onto his back, so he’s one getting most of the impact of our fall, and I land on top of him.
“Jesus, Camille. Do you have any idea how dangerous that stunt was that you just pulled?!”
I lie there, stunned. Because my body remembers how good it felt to be close to Jonathan, and for a moment I allow myself to forget everything. I allow myself to be this close to him – to be here, just the two of us. His hand caresses my cheek. Only then does it dawn on me that this isn’t a very good idea.
I pull out of his embrace, but Jonathan’s quicker than me. Before I well and truly know what’s happening, I’m flat on my back in the grass. Jonathan’s sitting on top of me, pinning my wrists above my head.
“Why didn’t you tell me we had a son together?” he barks.
I buck underneath him, trying to throw him off, kicking my feet. “Let go of me, Jonathan!” I scream. “Everyone’s watching us.”
He leans into me, so close that his hot breath tickles my cheek. “Do I look like I give a fuck?” he says. “Even if the whole world was gaping at us, I’m not leaving here without answers, Camille.”
Who the hell does he think he is? I gave him the chance to be a part of Maxim’s life and he didn’t take it – he was too busy to even come to the phone. I stop moving and look him straight in the eye.
“Is he my son, Camille? I need to know!” He’s still holding me down, holding my gaze with his. I won’t be able to escape this no matter what I try.
“Yes,” I whisper.
His face contorts with pain. So many emotions flit across his face, but anger is clearly winning out.
“Why would you keep something like that from me?” His voice cracks.
I try again to wriggle free, but he won’t let go. A cluster of onlookers has gathered next to us to gawk at what’s happening. It doesn’t happen everyday that a famous drummer is wrestling some girl to the ground right next to your house. The first cellphones start to be whipped out, and I see a flash here and there.
“Let me go, Jonathan,” I growl. “I called you, but you were too busy dragging the next floozy into your bed.”
Those words finally convince him to set me free. He balls his hands into fists, looking livid. “You didn’t call me, Camille. Don’t you think I’d remember?”
I look up at him, confused. No matter how angry I am, I have to explain loud and clear to him that I am speaking the truth. “I did call, Jonathan. Several times, in fact. But you were never available to speak to me. Joe told me you wanted nothing more to do with me.”
At the mention of Joe’s name, he ducks his head down to look at me from up close. “You did what?”
“I called, and I left several messages with Joe, begging for you to call me back. I even told him I was pregnant at some point, but you never reached out to me.” A tear rolls down my cheek. It feels like it was only yesterday. I had such high hopes of Jonathan calling me back, and when that didn’t happen, my hope was shattered and replaced by anger. I couldn’t believe he’d be willing to abandon his own child. If he no longer wanted to see me, that made sense, but his child? What happened between us shouldn’t have mattered in that case.
Jonathan gives me a shocked look. “He never told me anything. Not about you and not about your pregnancy. You gotta believe me, Camille: I didn’t know you were pregnant. I never would have left if I did.”
I’m so exhausted from everything that’s happened that I just lie there, frozen. Jonathan slides off me and sits down in the grass, next to me. I stay down for a few more seconds, then sit up as well. Could it be true – did he really not know? Or is he just trying to make Joe the bad guy here? I glance aside and study Jonathan. He looks genuinely upset. Surely he’s not that good an actor? But why would Joe keep something that important from him?
I close my eyes, imagining how different my life would have been if Jonathan had been part of it. What it would have been like for Maxim to know his father. In the past few years I’ve been strong for Maxim’s sake, but in this moment, with Jonathan this close to me and the realization that things could have been so different, something inside of me snaps.
“I have to make sense of this, Camille. I...” He scratches his head, then looks at me. “I don’t know what to say, I don’t know how to make things right, but I think I need to talk with Joe first. Can we meet tomorrow?”
“Okay, sure. I think I need time to let everything sink in, too.”
Jonathan puts his hand on my cheek, and before I realize what’s happening, I feel his lips on mine. What must only be a few seconds seems to last for ages – like time comes to a screeching halt around us. His lips on mine feel so familiar. It may be five years ago that I last felt them on mine, but it still makes sense to me. Jonathan pulls away after a few beats, though. He glances at me.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Camille.”
And with those final words, he gets up and leaves.
After he’s gone, I burst out in tears. I have no idea what t
he future will hold, but one thing’s for sure: everything will change from here on in.
Present day
Jonathan
When Camille told me that Joe knew she was pregnant five years ago, I knew what to do. I need to find out what possessed him to keep something that important from me. He won’t know what hit him. Yeah, I know I should probably calm down first before talking to him, but I can’t wait any longer.
I park my car and head straight for the communal room. When I throw the door open, it hits the wall with a thud. Everyone looks up and gapes at me as though I’ve lost my mind. The person I’m looking for is present too, and he is the first one to address me.
“So happy you decided to join us after all,” Joe sneers. His eyes focus on me, but when he sees the anger on my face, he flinches. I don’t think, I act – I stalk toward him, yank him out of his chair and grab the collar of his jacket with both hands, marching him backward until his back hits the wall.
“I don’t know what your problem is, Sticks, but I suggest you let go of me right now,” he yells. He puts his hands on mine and tries to pry them off him.
“Why?” I holler.
The other band members have joined us and Max is trying to calm me down. “Sticks, what the fuck is wrong? Let Joe go!”
Enraged, I shake my head. “Not before this asshole tells me the truth.”
“What truth?” Joe fumes. “I swear to God, if you don’t let go of me this instant...”
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