Page 96 of AMS.TER.strum

Chapter Forty-Seven

Corrie

‘How are you doing, baby?’ I ask my groggy son.

‘Ik wil slapen.’

‘Go to sleep then, get some rest.’

‘When are we going home?’

I caress his leg over the bedcover, hoping it will help him fall asleep. ‘Soon. They want to make sure everything’s okay first.’

‘Waar is Ada?’

‘She is with Kalvin and Lola. They will come over to our place tomorrow when we go back.’

Otto closes his eyes, exhausted but thankfully not in pain, and I allow myself to relax on the chair beside his bed. It takes me three tries to close my eyes, which seem to pop open by themselves, making me believe what my kids say about their eyes not wanting to close right when it’s time for them to go to bed.

I’m not quite convinced the whirlwind is over. Every time I try to relax, I relive the last hours.

Otto started complaining that his tummy hurt at school, so much that I had to be called to pick him up. I had to call UN-tourist and inform them I’d be late, planning to resort to Mom’s help. But Otto kept hurting, and after he threw up, I dropped Ada off at Lola’s and took him to the emergency department. My son was taken for an appendectomy that I felt lasted for days. He is now recovering and will be good to go home tomorrow and back to school in a week.

It all happened so fast, I didn’t have time to get sick with stress. Now that things are calm again, worry hits me, making my eyes well up. I don’t want to alarm the little patient, so I distract myself by sending messages to everyone that all went well, including Luuk, whose texts, voicemail and missed call I saw after I resurrected my phone.

Sorry for being MIA.

Small adventure here, but everything is fine.

Will call tomorrow. xxx

My messages are sent, but not delivered. I look at the time…maybe he’s asleep? I miss hearing his voice. Since he’s not going to be here for a while, I’ll take any alternative, telling myself that video-calling is what we did before anyway. But there’s still no change in the status of my message.

I listlessly start scrolling through my notifications. My mind is so fried I almost miss it at first, until the information registers, and I have to recheck.

Popular country music star sets the record straight.

I click on the article. Luuk’s face in front of a microphone is next to the title. He’s wearing a pair of headphones; the photo was taken during an interview with Gwen Maloni, who isn’t exactly his favorite journalist. Although, by the way the article refers to their chat, one would bet they are kindred spirits.

My jaw drops as I continue reading, eyes snagging on one phrase in particular: ‘She’s the love of my life.’ There’s a video next to it, the catchy phrase like a movie title, and I impatiently rummage in my bag for my earphones. When Luuk’s voice fills my ears, tears flood my eyes, as if I’m hearing it after years. He’s looking straight towards the camera, only furtively glancing towards Gwen, who is hanging onto his every word.

Gwen: What about Amsterdam?

Luuk: What about it?

Gwen: Come on, Luuk, there’s something, or rather someone over there…

Luuk: There is. There are. Three someones.

Gwen: Your alleged secret children? OMG, are you blushing?

Luuk: Maybe… But we’ve established that I have no secret children, right? Still, those two little people are amongst my favorite ones. I fell in love with them the moment I held them, on the day they were born.