by Desiree Span
While going in there, the first thing I noticed was that the place was just as filthy as it had always been. Somewhere between the last time I had been there and that evening, the walls had been painted from red to green, though it wasn’t recently for the “new” green walls were already stained and showed all the signs of being in need of a fresh layer. The wooden chairs and tables seemed to be the same, but the bar and the stage, on which the duet singers were standing, had clearly been renovated at some point.
One thing that had remained exactly the same was the cozy and pleasantly familiar atmosphere. I smiled at the recognition of the faint smell of roasted peanuts, mixed with beer, spilled on the wooden floor. The dimmed lights and loud, animated chattering over music made nostalgic memories of me hanging out here with my friends immediately pop up. It was a place where you could come in alone and easily wind up in good company the whole evening.
Bradley walked over to the bar straightaway and ordered us four beers, then we clicked our bottles together and shouted “Cheers!” almost simultaneously. The guys hung around us, while Anabel discretely pointed out people from the past—some familiar but many whom I couldn’t quite place. But it didn’t matter for any gossip is still good. Then Bradley pulled Jan away by his arm, signaling to us that they were to be found in the annex room where the pool tables were.
Anabel and I spent the next hour drinking beer and talking to people. It didn’t matter if I knew them or not, everybody was friendly and open to conversation. I instantly felt part of the group, and it was as if I had never left this place. And while I was enjoying myself I realized how much I had missed this.
Ten years earlier I couldn’t wait to get out of this place. I had believed it to be too small and confining for me. My wish had been to travel as far as I could and that the people here would refer to me as “the girl who escaped and became worldly wise.” But I realized how arrogant I had been and that most of the people I met that night had actually chosen to stay. They had chosen family, friends and community above anything else. I had left those things because I was running from the restrictions I had created in my head and searching for an adventure I never got to actually live. Not that I suddenly regretted leaving—I mean, that choice had brought me to Jan and my baby girls—but still I couldn’t help wondering what my life would have been like if I hadn’t left for The Netherlands ten years earlier.
While these thoughts were running through my head, I suddenly saw a familiar face walking through the front door. It was Tess.
Shit! I couldn’t believe my bad luck. She was the last person I had expected to see tonight. I gulped away my beer as I felt a tornado of emotions suddenly running through me. I then took a deep breath. This was ten years ago, I told myself. You have moved on and so has she. Don’t be ridiculous and get a grip.
Tess was with a group of women, and they took their place at the bar. She scanned the room unconsciously, like most people do when walking into a crowded establishment, and meanwhile kept on chattering with her friends. This until her eyes met mine and her face turned dead serious. She quickly looked away and so did I.
* * *
Anabel sensed my sudden change of mood and gave me a puzzled look. She then followed the trail of where I had been staring and also spotted Tess. She looked back at me and made a face while she took my hand in hers.
“Do you want to leave?” she asked kindly.
“No!” I said more aggressively than intended. I took another deep breath and the last sip from my bottle.
“We just got here and I’m enjoying myself. So let’s have another beer.” I tried to sound cheerful.
“This one is also on me,” Anabel said and hurried to the bar, and I wondered if she was paying for this beer out of pity or because she simply didn’t want me anywhere near the bar, which meant near Tess.
Anabel came back and for the next fifteen minutes Tess tried to keep up conversation with her friends while I pretended I wasn’t aware of her presence, but I couldn’t help eyeing her from time to time and she seemed to be doing the same. She suddenly stood up from her bar stool and walked toward the restrooms.
She was in there for just a minute and then came out again, but it was somewhat crowded so I lost sight of her. Then out of nowhere she popped up just behind me and tapped me lightly on the shoulder.
“Hi,” she said with a smile as I turned around. “I wasn’t expecting to see you in here tonight, or any other night for that matter.” She chuckled.
“I’m visiting,” I said. There was no reason to be impolite, so I couldn’t just snub her, but I didn’t return her smile.
“So, you came visiting with your family, huh?” she asked.
“Yes. With my husband and kids,” I said dryly.
She paused for a second, thinking of something else to say.
“That’s nice,” she nodded.
We both fell silent, but I deliberately didn’t take me eyes off her. When she turned her eyes away, I had this feeling of victory and at the same moment I felt embarrassed for gloating over my absurd staring contest.
“Okay then,” she continued awkwardly, but then she straightened her back. “Well, I saw you and decided to come over because I didn’t think it to be appropriate to simply ignore you. But I can understand if it makes you feel uncomfortable,” she said. “Anyway, have a nice stay.” She started to turn away when I put my hand on her forearm.
I didn’t mean to be a bitch, but I wasn’t sure how to react about seeing her, so I guess the juvenile mean girl act was some coping mechanism that had automatically flipped on. I had to admit to myself that she had given the mature example here. Besides, she hardly had any fault in what had happened; on the contrary, she had suffered a lot.
“Tess,” I said and she turned to me again. “I’m sorry. You caught me by surprise, and to be honest, I do feel weird about it.”
She nodded and smiled understandingly.
“But I appreciate you coming over,” I then added in a friendly tone.
Anabel, who had been standing beside me, muttered something about being right back and left the two of us to it.
“Do you want to sit over there? You know, just to talk for a second,” Tess asked.
“Sure,” and we walked to an empty table that stood in a corner and was a little further away from the music. We took a seat and I was glad I still had a beer in my hand, for it gave me something to do. I took a sip and hoped she would take the first step and say something.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry about what happened between you and Oliver. I know how much you two loved each other and I’ve always felt like... I broke up a happy marriage or something,” and she tried to lighten the mood by ending her sentence with a nervous chuckle.
I shook my head. “You don’t need to apologize, Tess. I mean, of course I was jealous and devastated, but when you two hooked up, Oliver and I weren’t even really a couple yet. It’s just that, I couldn’t deal with you carrying his child.”
Tess looked at me and then away and then I saw it... an immense sadness in her eyes. A sadness I couldn’t even begin to imagine. If I lost my girls I think I would literally shrivel, then melt into a human puddle and go completely insane with grief.
And in that moment all the remains of unjustified anger I had ever felt toward her vanished and I felt compassion. This woman had been through a terrible ordeal and not once had I thought about how she must have been struggling. I took her hand and she looked at me. “And I am so sorry for your loss,” I said.
“Thank you,” she replied, and swallowed visibly.
“I don’t know what else to say,” I added after a short pause.
“It’s okay. You know, after all this time I can still picture his face clearly. He was beautiful. I sometimes still imagine he would’ve grown up looking a lot like your Oliver.” She gave me a weak smile and this time I returned it.
“He really did love you, you know?” she then said, suddenly changing the subject and for a split
second I couldn’t follow.
“Who?” I asked.
“Oliver,” she replied with a “duh” kind of tone. “I just thought you needed to know that he never actually chose me; it was just for the baby.”
I know, I thought, but I didn’t want to seem arrogant, so instead I said, “He said that to you? That seems a little harsh of him.”
“No, he never really said it. But it was very evident in everything else he did. Besides, my feelings weren’t hurt. We were both very clear on what our relationship was,” she stated.
“You guys weren’t a couple? I mean, after I left?” I asked surprised.
“Of course not!” she said. “Did you think we continued to sleep together?” she asked.
“Well, I don’t know. I always thought you two would try to make it work. I mean you were going to be parents, so I guessed—”
“No,” she interrupted me. “It was just that once; a spur of the moment thing in the summer. He never touched me again.” Tess then looked at me intensely. “Oliver adored you, Erica.”
Her words really touched me and I had always assumed that Oliver and Tess had started something after I was gone. Tess telling me this had not happened didn’t change absolutely anything, but for some reason it comforted me.
“Thank you for telling me this,” I said. I smiled at her and she smiled back.
In the corner of my eye I saw Jan, Bradley and Anabel. She signaled in my direction, as if explaining to them that she was alone for I was engaged in a conversation elsewhere. I didn’t want my sister telling Jan about Tess, because I wanted to avoid having to explain to Jan who she actually was. So I quickly wrapped up my conversation with her, thanked her once more for coming over to talk to me and wished her a pleasant evening. I then walked over to Jan and put my arm around his middle while he put his around my shoulder.
“Who was that?” he asked.
“That was Tess!” Anabel said in an I’m-letting-you-in-on-our-secret tone.
“Who?” Jan asked again, not understanding the mystery.
“Just an old friend,” I said quickly. “Listen, do you want to get out of here? I’m kind of tired,” I continued.
“Sure,” Jan replied, slightly drunk and I gave him a loving kiss.
On our way out, Anabel pulled me somewhat aside, creating some distance between us and Jan and Bradley.
“Jan doesn’t know about Tess?” she asked somewhat shocked. “Yes and no. I never really mentioned her name,” I lied.
“So? What happened?” she inquired.
“Nothing much,” I said and smiled at her teasingly, for I knew she was dying to know the details.
“Come on, E! What did she say?” she insisted.
“Let’s just say, Tess has just given me...” I paused, looking for the right word, “... closure”
The next day Jan and I woke up late. My parents let us sleep in by watching over the girls until we awoke, which was around noon. Anabel had called and said that she and Bradley would pick up Micah that evening and they would be joining us for dinner.
Dinner was superb. My mother had outdone herself making a five-course dinner, and after we had put the kids to bed we all gathered in the living room, talking and bringing up fond memories. We sat around the coffee table and laughed at the anecdotes, while my mother kept pouring coffee and offering us more of her homemade apple pie.
Then suddenly, “Do you remember that Fourth of July you and Oliver snuck out way past midnight to see the fireworks at Mr. Coleman’s place by the lake?” Anabel said laughing.
My heart jumped at hearing Oliver’s name mentioned.
“You left a note saying, ‘If you smell hair burning, come and find me by the lake.’ Dad was furious. You were grounded for, what... like a month? And Oliver got away with it, because he said he had just gone over there to convince you to come home. I remember he also left a note and his note said something like, ‘Gone to rescue Erica. I’ll be back in a jiffy, unless the fireworks are really cool.’ I mean, that was simply hilarious.”
Everyone laughed. And then, much to my disgrace, one by one the “Oliver and Erica” anecdotes were told: Oliver and Erica breaking two windows while playing football in the house (by the way, I needed stitches after slipping on the broken glass); Oliver and Erica playing hooky to go swimming in the lake; Oliver and Erica coming home from Boston for Thanksgiving and forgetting to buy the promised turkey because they were too busy making out in the Scooby-Doo van.
This was terrible. I wished the floor underneath me would open and just swallow me up. Nobody seemed to notice me silently begging them to stop, nor Jan’s uncomfortable look. Until Jan asked, “Who is Oliver?”
Instantaneously a total silence fell and all eyes were on me. “You don’t know who Oliver is?!” my sister asked flabbergasted, with her big blabbermouth. She looked at Jan with eyes wide in disbelief and Jan then looked at me not understanding.
My father, finally feeling the tension this topic had created, cleared his throat and answered Jan’s question. “Oliver is the son of Peter. A good friend of mine, uhm, ours. And, Erica and Oliver grew up together and they, well...” He smiled uncomfortably but didn’t finish his sentence.
“Oh, okay. I see,” Jan said, understanding perfectly well what the end of my father’s sentence should be. He then looked at me and said, “How come you’ve never ment—,” but I rapidly interrupted him before he could finish his sentence.
“Who wants more coffee?” I asked, trying escape the situation. I jumped up and headed for the kitchen.
My mother caught up with me in the kitchen.
I had started putting a new pot of coffee and was agitatedly scraping the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher.
“E... ? I can’t believe you never told Jan about Oliver,” she said, shaking her head while pouring coffee into the mugs.
“I never found that to be necessary,” I answered without looking at her.
“If that was your choice, well then that’s fine, sweetie. But, knowing how much Oliver meant to you... I guess we just all assumed Jan knew about the history between you two. So, you can’t really blame Anabel, or any of us.”
“I don’t blame anyone, Mom. I just never saw the point in telling him, that’s all,” I said.
My mother looked at me strangely and studied my face. Then, as if making up her mind, said, “Speaking of Oliver, I have something for you.”
She opened up the drawer of one of the cabinets and took out an envelope.
“Oliver came over a couple of years ago and gave us a card, congratulating us when the twins were born. There was also this. It’s addressed to you.”
“What? That was over two years ago! Why are you giving me this just now?” I demanded. I had switched to Dutch; when angry, it sometimes felt better.
“Well, I completely forgot about it, till now. Besides, if I remember correctly, you forbade us to ever mention his name again.”
“That is silly. That was such a long time ago! Besides, I’m long over all that,” I said firmly. I looked at her angrily with my hands on my hips.
“Are you now?” she replied with a sympathetic smile.
She handed me the unopened envelope and walked out with a tray of fresh coffee.
I poured myself a cup as well, then poured some soymilk in it and sat down at the kitchen table, staring at the envelope. On the front he had written, “For Erica.” I recognized his handwriting immediately. I opened it quickly and in it was a small note that said:
Remember the loose board beneath the big sofa in the treehouse? If you lift it you will find a small package there. I hope you find it. - Oliver
I didn’t think it over but stood up, put the note in my pocket and silently slipped out the back door. It was very late and I quickly walked the three blocks toward the Blakes’ home.
Oliver’s parents lived on the corner of the street. It was a beautiful white house, with a lot of trees and flowers and a two-person swing with cozy cushions on the
porch. The house was completely dark and I tiptoed on the porch and peeked through one of the large windows, but either everyone was asleep or there was nobody home. I was tempted to knock, see if someone opened, and ask if I could take a peek inside the treehouse, but then I thought of all the explanations I would have to give and decided to take another approach. Also, it was way too late. I silently walked off the porch and proceeded toward the side of the house, and I could see the huge branches of the treehouse all the way toward the back. I followed the wooden fence that separated their backyard from the sidewalk and then tried the fence door, but it was locked. Shit. Hadn’t thought of that.
I had no other choice but to do the thing Oliver and I had done countless of times we had gotten home too late. I hoisted myself up the fence, at the top I crossed my legs over the other side and then jumped. I landed with a thud and smiled at the memory of Oliver shushing me for being too loud. I then quickly headed for the stairs of the treehouse, my heart racing and my palms sweaty.
I opened the door of the treehouse and walked in. I stood there for a second, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness, but I didn’t need long for luckily the moon shone bright enough for me to be able to see. The place was exactly as I had left it. The table and chairs where we did our homework, the posters on the wall and the huge sofa. It was dusty as if it hadn’t been used in some time. I walked toward the bookshelf and noticed that some of the books that I had put on it were still there. A drawing pad, some sketches and a box of coloring pencils that had belonged to me were also there. I sat on the sofa a couple of minutes and took it all in. It was as if time had stood still in this place. I then remembered I was actually trespassing and stood up and tried to move the sofa as quietly as possible. The thing was ridiculously heavy and I wondered how they had managed to get it up there in the first place. But then it finally budged, and after one more push it slid over, making way for me to check the wooden floor. I instantly saw the loose board and lifted it carefully.