Too much had happened in
the long-awaited summer after high school. Eager for beach days and cool summer
nights, Jen hadn’t expected the onslaught of waves coming to destroy her
fragile sandcastle of bliss.
She remembered how he
carried himself with a certain air of sweetness – the kind of sweet that
lingers on your tongue after a bite of strawberry tart. She remembered the
familiar way his protective arms used to hold her. They’d known each other for
years, were best friends almost. She trusted him – but not in the way he
believed she did.
She arrived home drenched
from the battering rain. She rushed to the bathroom and furiously tried to
scrub herself clean, to the point where parts of her olive skin turned bright
red. The same color of the blood she left on his bed sheets. Overwhelmed with
numbness, she let fatigue coax her into sleep that night. She woke up to find familiar
arms wrapped around her. In the embrace of her mom’s own broken heart, reality
dug into her. She was a black hole, collapsing into herself. She resented him for
the bitter taste of tears on her lips. She despised him for her emptied heart,
her mother’s guilt, and her tainted body.
Jen desperately wanted to
leave California for the time being. Home was littered with triggers that
brought her back to that dreaded crime scene. So, with her mom, she gave her
goodbyes and set flight for a change of scenery. She didn’t want to wither away
behind her bedroom door; she decided to let wanderlust take over.
“Familiar” defined this
place perfectly – it reminded her a lot of both London and Paris. If you merged
the grunginess of London and the charming architecture of Paris, you would get
Brussels. For the week, this city would be their home. Determined to
indulge themselves before the week’s end, they ventured out for the famed
Belgian waffles and fries every evening. Jen wanted to enjoy the simple things,
especially the you-can’t-get-these-anywhere-else kind of simple. Bundled up in
their winter best and cameras on hand, they headed towards the city center. They
found Grote Market and Grand Place the perfect one-stop combination. The
streets were lined with restaurants, cafes, bookstores, and Belgian specialty
shops. For the time being, they wouldn’t have to worry about lack of variety.
As it readied to rest for
the night, the tired sun set the ambience of the Grand Place Square. The pink
hues of the sunset filled the gaps between the buildings. The street lamps lit
on cue and radiated the roads with their soft warm glow. Tourists and locals
alike lined the cobblestone streets. Some marveled at the chocolate displays
and others captured moments with their cameras. The air filled with a warm
sense of cheer, although Jen’s reddening hands said otherwise. Surrounded by
lovers linking arms and friends laughing the evening away, she was glad she
hadn’t come alone. She had expected alone time in an attempt to put her life
into focus, but her mom convinced her otherwise, knowing she needed someone. Occasionally,
someone would brush against her and she would automatically flinch in fear.
Whenever she froze, she reminded herself that it wasn’t him – that he was back
in California, far from being able to touch her again. This was why coming with
her mom was a good idea.
Initially, Jen had chosen
Belgium for the yummy waffles, but found their fries to be on par. She found
the exact restaurant she’d seen on TV, and ordered the most popular choice from
the menu. Her face lit up when she saw the waiter coming towards her table with
a steaming plate of golden goodness. The fries were perfectly crisp and
smothered in tangy curry ketchup, strange yet savory mayonnaise, and grilled
onions.
They continued strolling,
not heading anywhere in particular and getting lost on purpose – one of the
best ways to discover a city. There was so much to see and hear – Belgian
chocolates on display in their fine-crafted splendor, the lovely French
language echoing through the streets, and street musicians setting the
soundtrack of the evening.
Lost in the music, Jen hadn’t noticed the little boy
with his red balloon. It wasn’t until she saw the dashing flash of color from
the corner of her eye that she came to.
“My
balloon!” shouted the boy. His balloon had made a run for it.
“Mom!
Hold on, I’ll be right back.”
“Jen!”
She left her surprised mom
and chased after the balloon with the boy not far behind her. The balloon
twisted this way and that, turning street after street. Jen guessed it was
running out of helium, because it wasn’t flying up into the sky. Caught in the
wind, it steadily bobbed five feet off the ground. Finally, the wind started to
die down and she quickly grabbed for the string.
“You
got it!” The boy’s face beamed as she handed him his red runaway.
“Hold
on tighter next time, little kid.” She couldn’t help but smile. He was beaming.
Facing him now, Jen saw that he was around 7 years
old. Something about his face was curiously familiar too.
“Hi,
my name’s James. What's yours?”
“Oh,
my name’s Jen.” She liked kids, but admittedly wasn’t really great with them.
“That’s
a pretty name. I like it. You have the same name as my mom!”
“Oh,
tell her I like her name too. Let’s start walking back, ok?”
Without hesitation, James
held her hand and led the way. His small hand was warm and plush in hers.
Surprisingly, he remembered which turns to make and which streets to take.
“Are
you from around here?”
“No,
I came to visit someone with my parents. Something bad happened to her.”
“Is
she sick?”
“Yes,
but my mom said her heart hurts too.”
“Oh,
I’m sorry. I hope she gets well soon.”
“She will. When she sees
me.” Right then, James looked up at her with an odd smile.
She felt as if he was referring to her. But she
pushed that thought away.
The
walk back took less than five minutes and soon Jen saw her mom pacing in the
way she does when worried. Jen caught her attention and quickly waved at her to
tell her to stay put.
“There’s my mom. Do you
see your parents?”
He
pointed to a fairly young couple sitting on one of the green benches in the
small square. His parents seemed pretty relaxed, considering the fact that
their little son ran off.
“It
was nice to meet you, Jen. I hope you feel better.”
“…Huh?
What?”
Without
replying, James ran on his little feet towards his waiting parents.
“Bye-bye!
See you soon!” He waved again.
She watched as his parents
stood up and welcomed him back with a hug. The trio seemed like a close-knit
family, one that she had always hoped to have in the future. Her doctor’s words
resounded in her head. “I’m sorry, but
it’s possible that the internal damage might have taken away your ability to conceive.”
There would never be a little girl or boy who would have her eyes or nose
or any of her genes.
She could tell that his
parents dearly loved him. As they started walking away, James tugged at his mom
and their faces turned back towards Jen. The resemblance was uncanny. His face
mirrored his mom’s and her face mirrored…Jen’s. As she watched them leave, a
warm glow started from her chest and radiated all throughout her body. She
tightly clung to one fact: she would see James again.
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