Page 31

‘Feel free to vent any time, I’m happy to listen.’

We hang up shortly after but promise to talk again soon. I fully intend to make good on it. I don’t have illusions about how small a space I occupy in her life, but maybe with time…?

Chapter Thirteen

Now

Luuk

Two enthusiastic voices precede the pitter-patter of small people approaching the door, ignoring their mother’s warning to ask who it is first. There’s a bit of fumbling with the lock, before the door flies open, and two pairs of huge eyes look at me, like they do every time we see each other in person.

After the initial frenzy of knowing I have arrived, they pause to take me in, as if comparing the person in front of them to the image on the video calls or the photos I know Corrie shows them.

I sit on my haunches. ‘Good afternoon, ma’am, sir, I’m looking for Ada and Otto. Will you please tell them their friend Luuk is here?’

Exchanged questioning looks lead to giggles, before they finally launch towards me.

‘Luuuuuk!’ Ada says.

‘We’re here!’ Otto pokes his chest with his finger.

‘What? I almost didn’t recognize you! You’ve grown up so much!’

They have grown since the beginning of the year—I’d managed to sneak a few days off and drop by for their birthday, much to Aaron’s dismay, who wants me to be available at all times. I try to hold my balance as both of them almost push me over for a hug. Corrie hovers above us. As always, my heart does the same excited pitter-patter as the kids’ feet a moment ago.

‘You’ll throw Luuk on the ground,’ she says, her arm behind her back, moving to reveal the presents we hid the other day, before her famous date.

‘But we missed him,’ Otto says, as if this justifies any sort of reaction whatsoever, and now my heart melts at his matter-of-fact tone.

‘Shall we let him come in then? Don’t you have something to show him?’

I unfurl my body as they run inside and Corrie passes me the bag. In the living area, two antsy five-year-olds are holding a page each, filled with colourful drawings.

‘Are these for me?’

They nod in unison, almost shy again, until Otto’s eyes move to my feet. ‘Aren’t you going to knock-knock your boots?’

I send coughing Corrie a questioning look, her eyes telling me she’ll explain, so I turn to the kids. ‘My bad, let me go take them off, while you’—I hold out the bag—‘go through these.’

‘About those boots…’ Corrie says as squeals waft from inside.

‘… that need to be knocked-knocked?’ I send her a devious smile. ‘I bet there’s an interesting story there.’

She presses her lips together. ‘A mortifying one at that.’

‘I can’t wait to hear.’

‘So, I was listening and singing along to Knockin’ Boots one day…’

I tsk. ‘Not one of my songs? This is truly testing our friendship.’

She playfully slaps my arm as I toe off my boots. ‘Oh, shut up! If you must know, some of yours would be even more embarrassing for little mouths to repeat after little ears hear.’

‘Fine…’ I say dramatically. ‘I’ll make a PG song about boots being knocked… Now, what was the deal with my competitor’s song?’

Her turn to tsk. ‘You’re supposed to call them fellow artists, you know. Anyway, Otto has heard the song several times, like Ada, but never made a comment before. This time, he asked why someone might be knocking their shoes.’

‘I mean, the kid has a point…’