Nanny in Amsterdam, part 20

"Mom, I'm going to post some letters and take a stroll with the dog."

"Okay love, put on a scarf. It's windy. Don't want you to get sick again."

I'm staring at the two letters I have in my hand. One for Seattle, one for Vancouver.

It's been two and a half months now since my father brought me back home.

I don't get out much. I've been ill. Physical and mentally.

Although being back at the bosom of my family should make me feel safe and loved, the emptiness inside me won't go away.

That night Oliver, my young champion and protector, picked up the pieces of what was left of me and brought them to Chad's parents. They called the Van Breukelen family, my former bosses, and they called my father.

Mark and Daphne van Breukelen found out to which hospital Eddie was taken and two days after he was stabbed I was allowed to see him.

Behind glass.

No family for him.
To hold his hand.
To fuss about him. To worry. To stroke his head.

He looked so beautiful. Pale. His hair combed back from his face. The way his arm was draped along his lean body. Tubes everywhere.  Bags with fluid. Bleeping lights on monitors. Vulnerable.

Lovely, lonely elf.

They couldn't - or wouldn't - tell me what the prospects were.

I guess I stood there for hours. With my face pressed against the wall of glass.
Eventually someone took me home.

I can't even remember going on the plane, back to Amsterdam.

I kiss each envelop, one for Oliver, one for Chad and Ivy, before I post them.

My dog pulls the leach and we continue our walk. It is spring now. The trees are blossoming and the sun is already warm. I decide to sit on a bench for a while. Listen to the sounds of the city and the birds that sing loud to drown the buzz.

"Hey, Lotte?"

I look up and see an old friend from primary school. We used to be best friends, but we both went to different high schools.

"Veronique!" I get up and we hug. My dog barks happily.

We sit and talk for a while. Catch up.
Then she looks at her watch and we hug one more time before she leaves.
I haven't felt this light in weeks. Humming I walk back home.

My mother is in the kitchen when I get in. She stares at me inquisitively.

"You look much better, dear."

"Yes. Guess who I saw? We are going out together. Tomorrow! I saw Veronique."

"I'm so happy for you. She was always such a nice friend."

I get ready to go out.

I've been tempted to call Veronique with some lame excuse. I really don't want to go.

But my father will come home from another business trip and he shall probably be bragging about how well my sister is doing, how she is making a career in finance and how excellent her fiancé is - and most of all that it is time for me to get a grip on myself and go back to college.

He's probably right.

But I can't.

I can not bring myself to do anything, because I feel like I'm living in a vacuum.
The void Eddie left. The mist in my head.

I hear my father's car at the driveway.

The final push to put on something nice, grab my purse and sneak out the backdoor to get my bike.

It is still light. Summertime.

A blackbird is singing high up in a tree.

I think of Eddie.

A tear rolls down my cheek when I put my bike in the rack outside the café I had planned to meet Veronique.

A knock on the window. She is already inside. A big smile.
I wipe away the tear and pull a happy face.

A coffee, one beer, another beer, yet another beer.

We drink a lot, Veronique and I. We talk a lot. We share a lot. We cry a bit. We hug.

We get on our bikes and on our way to the movies we see a crowd outside a music venue and suddenly we decide to go to a concert instead of the cinema, even though we don't even know which band is playing.

There are still tickets available, but the music-hall is already filling up and we stand at the back a bit before the music starts.

"I have to pee, Vero. Do you want another beer when I come back?"

I go to the toilets and while I wash my hands I look into the mirror. I lost a lot of weight these months and my eyes look to big for my face. I put on a bit of lip gloss and when I am about to go back to the hall I hear the band has already started to play.

My knees almost give when I here the first riffs of the rhythm guitar.
It takes me back to months ago.

So familiar.
But it can't be; I've never even heard of the band's name.

I take a deep breath and join the cue for the beer tab.

"Two beer, please."

The guy at the bar winks at me and gives me the two vases.

"Here you are, love. Enjoy."

"Thanks."

I turn and start to walk back to Veronique when...

...it can't be.

That voice.

I almost drop the glasses on the bar and push my way through the crowd.

People start yelling at me. Angry or excited. Someone lifts me on his shoulders. Walks closer to the stage, but I scull myself free and writhe forward.

It is him.

Oh god, it's him.

Sometimes I see him. And then I am on my two feet again.

People hoist me further until I am almost up the front.

"Eddie, Eddie." I cry.

A security guy stops me.

"Calm down." He says.

"Eddie!" I scream.

The security guy is in my way and I try to dodge him, but he keeps me from climbing the stage. I bite him. I kick him.

Another security guy comes and they both try to stop me. One of them takes me into headlock and carries me away.

I am raging with anger but my heart sings with utter happiness.

He's alive!

I struggle to get free. I must get to him. I must.

But the man is too strong and I am about to give up when:

"Let her go...hey man, that's not right...let her go."

The tumult must have caught Eddie's attention. He has stopped singing and now addresses the security guy. He slowly walks to the side of the stage were we are, with squinted eyes - as if he can not believe what he sees, and then he takes a sprint a jumps into the crowd.

"Lotte!"

It is as if he surfs upon the wave of hands towards me.

But the current is too strong. He keeps being thrown back and I am dragged away.

Before I know it I am out on the street. The doors shut behind me.