Anouk and Bas seem to have it all done: they have a good business, a nice house and nice twins (14). They form the perfect picture, until Anouk and Bas are suddenly diametrically opposed to each other. They share their story weekly, viewed from both sides. This week, Anouk.
I didnt think the banner action well, and thats not for me. Of course it was nice to put Bas such a heel, but I didnt think who else would face these images.
Spring starts about it just before we get in the car to go to my parents for the childrens advance birthday dinner. My parents never come to a birthday. We always have to visit them to be congratulated.
“ How can you be so stupid to make us crap like that? Did you find that funny or something?” When I shrug my shoulders speechlessly, she continues: “What a stupid action. I just dont feel like going with you to Grandpa and Grandma and pretend like nothings going on.” Enraged, shes beating away. Storm stays behind. I see hes feeling uncomfortable. “Sorry,” I say. “I didnt mean to hurt you.” “The whole school has seen you,” he murmurs. “Really not chill.”
Im sticking out my hand to stroke his nose. I used to do that when he couldnt sleep. He loved that. Now he irritated knocks my arm away: “Do not do it,” he hums. Then he turns around. “Where are you going?” I ask. “Were going to Grandpa and Grandmas.” “No,” he shakes, “I wont go if Spring doesnt go either.”
and so I sit alone at my parents table without the twins. My mom doesnt have a good word for it. She preaches about lack of parenting skills, standards of practice and a sense of tradition. She points to my brother and sister, whose children are much neater than mine. “Those are still small. Wait until they become adolescent,” I defended weakly. But my mother doesnt listen. Thats my role in this company.
I let the flood of words come over me and look around in the meantime. The tablecloth has had its best time and has still not been replaced. And the salmon comes from the supermarket, not from the delicatessen in the village. It is becoming increasingly clear to me that my parents are not doing well financially, but I am afraid to ask about it. Afraid of the consequences.
Meanwhile, my mother has touched on another topic: my marriage. “Your brother sent us this video. Can you explain whats going on here?” Im in color. I still havent told them were getting divorced, because I dont want to feel like an even bigger failure than I already do here. “Bas and I had a fight and I wanted revenge,” I chop.
“ Is Bas cheating?” “He kissed a colleague,” I chop. “And I was very angry about that.” My father puts his hand on my arm protective. I would prefer to plunge into his arms crying and tell the whole story, but as always, my mother comes between us: “A kiss. One kiss, and then you turn it into a whole show again. What a drama queen you are.”
as if he feels my mood, Samuel Apps when I drive home: “Do you feel like taking a walk?” “Always,” I answer. Samuels waiting for me with a full bag. “Whats in there?” I ask curiously. “A rug to sit on, 2 glasses and a bubble.” “A bubble? Do we have something to celebrate?” Samuel laughs: “Every moment with you I want to celebrate. Shall we skip the walk and go straight to the bubbles?”
Sitting on the dress with a glass in my hand, I feel my body relaxed again. Just like the conversation. Ill invite him to the birthday right away. “As Sems father and not as… Well, you know.” “A good friend of the mother?” “Exactly.”
Time flies by. When the bottle is out and our buttocks are cold from the hard surface, Samuel gets up: “You have to leave the car now,” he notes. “Will you take me home on the back?” “On the back? I wanted to offer you a spot on my rod.” Inviting, he holds his rod. Ill jump on it and well cycle into the night together.
Its a blissful night. The moon is full, the village is quiet. I feel 16 again. My head against his broad shoulder; his strong arms around me. Words are not necessary right now. This feels as familiar as my oldest winter coat. Coming home, Im slipping off the rod. I stand on my toes, close my eyes, spout my lips. I feel Samuel bends forward, breathes, and then stroking my cheek. “Sleep well Anouk,” and gone he is. Disappointed, Im staring at him.