The Knowing Ch. 08

A/n sorry, no sex in this chapter.

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SANTOS

Later

Santos could not shake the feeling that she was waiting for something. She just had no idea what.

Biko had woken up early that morning. He ran into her room, pushed himself under the covers and asked her again.

"On a aller au parc?" Are we going to go to the park he said in French. He had been asking her all week after she promised to take him on a hike in the state park so they could play in the snow the week before. Every single day he asked with increasing anxiety as they completed their daily tasks. She'd pick him up from school, where he'd be sitting outside patiently, waiting for her. As soon as he got in the car he'd begin in rapid fire French, Je peux apporter quelque chose à manger pour le parc? or Ce que nous allons faire dans le parc? Or the most frantic question of all Que faire si il'n'y a pas de neige? What do we do if there is no snow?

She got up, answering him in a mix of French and English, "Yes, Biko, Nous sommes aller au parc today."

"Je fais un sandwich, deux sandwichs maman!" and he ran downstairs to start making sandwiches, Santos slightly aware that there might be a big clean-up If she didn't get down there soon to help him.

But still as she entered their world, their morning routine, their bubble, she kept having the sense that they couldn't leave the house yet. They were both ready by 9 am, but she puttered around the house, finding any excuse not to leave, cleaning, rearranging, sending last minute e-mails, trying her best to stall. To wait on whatever it was she thought she was waiting on. She was pretty sure that Sanchez had already left the country so she wasn't waiting for him. Did she have a conference call that evening? When was the last time she had spoken to her mother?

Finally, at 11, she realized if she waited any longer they wouldn't have enough time at the park, so she better start the car and get going soon. Biko had been in his snowsuit, coat, hat, and mittens for the past hour, sitting on the stairs and staring at her impatiently every time she passed by him, pulling on his face and mumbling to himself in French. He was totally over her.

"Ok I'm going to warm up the car now, attends, Biko, on y va."

Biko stood up on the steps immediately jumping off of them and running into the kitchen, "Je vais chercer les sandwichs!" I'm going to get the sandwiches, he belted, running off toward the kitchen. Santos sighed, pulling her heaving winter coat from the closet and pulling her impossibly long hair up high on top of her head, and slamming a hat she had stolen from Peter years ago on it, a few strands escaping around her face. She had been growing it for 23 years now, and though she had cut the locs themselves a few times it seemed the older she got, for some strange reason, the faster her hair grew. Now her locs, which she had cut to ear length while she was pregnant with Biko, hung to nearly her waist, the tips turning blond from sunlight. She usually wore them wrapped around her head, or in one of the many hats she had from Peter. Zipping up her coat she headed toward the front door, pushing her feet lazily into a pair of Blundstone type hiking boots and opening it. There was a bucket of salt there and she picked it up as she stepped out of the house, and rounded the corner toward her driveway. She threw some out of the bucket and in front of her as she walked down the path. She should probably shovel better from now on. But it was their first real winter in this place, and after avoiding winter for nearly a decade well, she wasn't so keen on shoveling.

She headed to the car, pulling her keys out of her pocket, and opening up the car to start it up. She got in, started the engine, and then got out again to brush the front window surveying the bottom of their driveway, wondering how icy the roads were near the park when she saw a figure on a bicycle riding down the street towards her.

That's odd she thought to herself, Who the hell is riding a bike in the winter. But she ignored it, heading back up to the household to bring Biko outside when she was suddenly rocked. She knew that person. She turned back and looked down her driveway unsure if she was hallucinating or just plain crazy, but there he was. Jaan, at the end of her driveway, holding a bike and staring at her.

"Jaan?" she called out.

He started to walk the bike up the driveway and she was suddenly overcome with grief, and then very quickly, the need to run far away. Far and quick. The closer he got to her the more the feeling overtook her, climbing up her throat and spreading through her veins. What was he doing here?

"Jaan?" she asked again as he neared her. She held her breath.

He had grey hair. Lots of it, streaking through the darkness that rested on top of his head, and dark deep circles underneath his eyes. His cheeks were flush and slightly red, she figured from riding his bike through this cold, and his lips were a deep maroonish-purple. He must be freezing.

"Did you ride that here?" she asked when he was finally in front of her bicycle in hand. He was wearing a large green parka, a black hat, gloves and scarf, and heavy boots, a messenger back slung across his chest. She just couldn't get over it. What the hell was he doing there?

"Just from the train station." He said starring at her. His eyes looked on her heavily, unwavering, and settled. He wasn't smiling, but Santos got the sense that he needed to look at her. Like he wanted her to take off her coat and show him her body so he could see how she had aged. They had both aged. And though Santos couldn't help but think the obvious, that Jaan looked terrible, he was still unbearably attractive, one of those men whose despair made him even more handsome.

"What are you doing here?" she asked as Biko burst out of the house. Screaming something at her that she couldn't understand and skidding down the driveway, bundled up beyond recognition with a bag full of stuff.

"Maman, on y va! On y va!" He yelled skidding down the last part of the driveway and slamming into her dropping the bag and spilling the contents at Jaan's feet.

Jaan put down the kickstand on his bike and reached down to pick up the contents of the bag while Biko starred at him.

"On y va maintent, non? Qui-est il?" We are going now, no? Who is he? Biko asked her quietly. She stared at him, and looked over at Jaan who was watching them as he picked up the sandwiches and fruit and put them back into the bag.

Did he already know she had a son? Did he have any children? She wondered vaguely, how attractive he would find her now that she was someone's mother. Then immediately scolded herself for the thought.

Jaan finished putting the contents in the bag and stood. Holding the bag in his hand, but not holding it out to her. He stared at them, but made no move to give the bag back. Santos couldn't read him, but she was curious. The last time she had seen him he had told her he was getting married, that must've been 9 or 10 years ago.

Santos cleared her throat, "Umm, we are going to Allaire State Park to play in the snow- if you want to come."

"Il vient avec nous?" Biko asked.

She looked down at him, "Yea if he wants to, he'll come with us."

They both looked at Jaan who was looking at them and smiling.

"He looks exactly like Sanchez." He said suddenly.

Santos looked down at Biko who was looking up at her with wonder. "Carbon Copy."

"It's crazy, it's like looking at him."

Santos smiled at Jaan and they looked at each other for a minute years passing through them calmly.

"Do you want to come? With us I mean- to the state park?"

Jaan nodded looking at Biko for a moment, "My name is Jaan," he reached his hand out toward him, Biko starred at it like it might hurt him. "I'm your uncle's friend from when he was young too."

"Tu parles Francais?" Biko asked

"He speaks English Biko." Santos said, Biko looked up at her.

She had gotten into the terrible habit, of only speaking in French to Biko. Sometimes they spoke in Franglish, a mix of French and English, But she wanted to raise Biko how she had been raised, in a French speaking household. So now he was firmly bilingual, and learning Spanish in school too, her goal was to get him into one of those bilingual Spanish middle schools so that he'd be trilingual by the time he was in High School but they had some time for that. For now they spoke French in the household and he spoke English in school. The problem was that Biko liked to speak French way more than he liked English. So when he wasn't in school he didn't speak any English. Which was OK around family, but confusing in mixed company. Plus, he was stubborn about it, often speaking in French to people he knew didn't speak the language.

"Il ne peut pas venir." He said

Santos shook her head at Biko and then looked up at a Jaan who was staring at her, so intensely her heart dropped into her ass. She wasn't going to do this again, she couldn't.

"Why not? He can play in the snow, just like you." She said looking back at Biko. She opened the car door and shuffled him toward it.

Biko resisted, his body against her legs as she pushed him forward, "Il est un étranger." He's a stranger, Biko said, she could hear from the quiver in his voice that he wanted to cry. She picked him up and sat him in his car seat, hugging him close to her body the thickness of their jackets preventing Biko from hugging her fully.

"Oui, mais il est mon étranger." Yes, but he is my stranger, she whispered in Biko's ear before giving him a kiss on the cheek. "We'll have fun Biko don't worry."

She closed the door on him, and then turned to look at Jaan who was walking down the driveway after locking his bike at her front door. He stopped right in front of her, maybe a foot away from her body and starred at her carefully.

"Sanchez gave me your address." He said.

"Of course he did." Santos replied turning her head away from him for a moment to break the gaze. "What would you have done if we weren't here?"

Jaan looked her seriously. She found it painful to look into his eyes. Not because of what had happened between them when they were young, but because she was embarrassed. Embarrassed that she had spent all those years without him. Even more embarrassed that she could still possibly feel this way after 20 years.

"Waited." He said crisply looking at her lips. Santos felt a shiver run from the base of her spine to the tip of her head. She nodded slowly and then turned to open the car door.

______________________________________________

How she managed to spend 5 hours at the state park; playing in the snow, eating snacks, chasing after Biko, and chasing after Biko chasing after Jaan, without passing out from disbelief, she had no clue. Jaan had been running around her in circles, building a snowman with her son- her son with Peter Tubbs. This was all too surreal- how was it even possible for this to be happening?

Driving back home both Jaan and Biko had fallen asleep. Jaan's head pressed against the window, the heat of his head fogging it up. Biko had warmed up to Jaan faster than she expected. A notoriously shy kid, who often talked to no one except for her (not even his own father), had managed to strike up a tenuous friendship with a man she hadn't seen in years. Doing it all in a mix of French and English.

Biko starred at Jaan a long time when they got out of the car at the Park. He had stood directly in front of Jaan and just stared at him, asking her questions in French before warily walking into the Park. It helped that Jaan was playful, immensely so. She had, of course, never seen Jaan with a kid before and was a little surprised at how good he was. How easily they connected to each other. It probably helped that he looked like Sanchez but acted like Santiago, it was easy for Jaan to warm up.

As they approached the house Santos began to feel nervous. The sun was setting and she wasn't sure what she would or should do. She parked the car, as Jaan stirred a bit in his seat.

"Are we back?" he asked groggily. He looked in her direction rubbing his eyes and then turned to look in the back seat at Biko. He opened his car door before her, and immediately went to the backseat to unbuckle Biko, whose limp body fell into his arms as he lifted him out of his car seat. Jaan kicked the door closed behind him, lazily shuffling up the icy drive way with Biko bundled into his arms.

Santos stood outside of her car door and stared at them- shocked. The entire day has been like this. Too much, too surreal and yet too familiar, too real. Then there was the fact that she had sensed him- well, she hadn't exactly known it would be him but, she had sensed that something- someone would be coming that day.

Jaan reached her front door, and looked back down at her in the driveway. She panicked suddenly aware of his knowledge of her gaze on him. Clumsily she slammed the door closed on her jacket, reopened it, and then closed it on her jacket again, this time with her scarf. When she finally got the door properly closed, she had to open the back door to get out the bag full of trash. She skidded up the driveway nearly falling over before reaching the door, where Jaan still stood holding Biko, who was now awake, but running his hand through the top of Jaan's hair, and holding his hat in the other. The sun was setting behind them, and Santos was dumbstruck at the sight of the two of them together in their winter coats, Biko's head on Jaan's shoulder as they looked at each other, Biko's small brown hand running lazily into Jaan's hair. Santos sneaked her camera from her coat pocket surreptitiously and took a picture of them.

After a moment Biko turned his head and looked at her, before turning back to Jaan, pushing himself out of his arms. Jaan set him down on the ground as Santos opened the front door.

She needed to breath.

For a moment looking at them on the front porch of her house felt... she felt like... like no time had passed. Like they had stayed together. Like they were together.

She cleared her throat as they all took their shoes off at the front door and hung their coats up on hooks. Biko was moving slowly, she could tell he was tired. It was only 5:45pm, but she knew he would be fast asleep by 7pm. She helped him unzip his coat and then step out of his snowsuit.

"Vas-y a salle de bain" she said to him, and he shuffled himself, slowly, up the stairs and toward the bathroom

She turned to look at Jaan. He had already walked over to the couch and sat down on it.

She cleared her throat, but he didn't turn his head to look at her, instead he leaned back, against the couch, folding his hands across his stomach.

She cleared her throat again, but walked over toward him on the couch until he could see her standing at the corner of his vision.

"Umm, I'm going to get Biko ready for bed." She said.

Jaan's eyes were red, he was tired, and he rubbed them wearily leaning his head back on the couch stretching out his neck. He yawned, and blinked so slowly she thought he might've fallen asleep.

"Ok."

"You can, sleep here tonight- um, so you don't have to ride back in the cold."

"Ok," Jaan said yawning so wide Santos could see all of his teeth top and bottom. He leaned over, stretching his entire body out on the couch and closed his eyes. "If you're cool with that." He said before it seemed he fell asleep.

Santos stared shook in way that was nearly indescribable.

What the fuck was Jaan doing in her house? Holding her child like he was his own, and making her feel like a teenager again. What the fuck did he think he was doing? She got Biko ready for bed in a daze. Setting up his bath and waiting, and then making sure he brushed his teeth while she looked at him in a complete fog.

What is he doing?

What is he doing?

What the hell does he think he is doing?

She repeated it to herself again and again. Getting angrier and angrier by the minute, and acutely aware that her anger stemmed from fear. She was afraid of Jaan, she always had been. That she maintained this fear for nearly 20 years astounded her. By the time she lay in bed with Biko to read to him a story she was fuming, angrier than she had been in years. Had she really allowed herself to stay this scared of him? Had she always been so afraid of his love? Of his yearning? Of how bad he wanted her? Hadn't she done the right thing the first time by leaving him? She was just going to disappoint him, wasn't it better to disappoint him on purpose instead of by accident? And the second time, wasn't it him? Would she have left Peter, even if he had explicitly asked (especially that)? Wasn't he fucking married?

Santos lay in bed with Biko as he slept. Listening to the sound of his breathing and trying to calm herself down. The last time she saw Jaan was in a café, 2 weeks after her brother's wedding when she had followed him into a bathroom and fucked him. This after weeks of having to work with him at his magazine, pretending the entire time that they weren't, still, devastatingly in love with each other. Her relationship with Peter Tubbs became the giant elephant in the room. Bigger even than the fact that Jaan had a fiancé.

She could see- clearly- that he couldn't get over the fact that she was in a relationship, especially when he had groveled after her for years for that same thing.

But they had been kids then right?

Or maybe it had just been her that was the child. Was she being a child now? Still so afraid of Jaan that her only solution as to what to do with his presence was to kick him out of her house first thing in the morning?

Santos pushed herself out of Biko's bed and walked toward her room. Pulling her hair out of Peter's hat and letting it fall down her back.

She wanted Jaan. The fact bounced around her head like skittles. She had always known that, and so to have the thought settle into her brain after so long was a bitter comfort. What could be more obvious than this? That she wanted him, still, the same as always. It seemed repressing the idea had done her little good these past years. Maybe the best it had done for her was bring her Biko but she had somehow remained that same girl. Afraid of a want that she refused to let overpower her. Afraid of a boy who just wanted to give her his everything. Afraid of what would happen if she let him do so.

Could her fear of Jaan really be so profound? She thought a moment of Peter.

Peter had been her savior. A beautiful man, whose skin and heritage matched her own. Who was smart, interesting, talented and adoring. He was totally open to her, allowing her total feed. In a way, she forced herself to open up to him. At least that's what she thought. She shared as much as she could, gave whatever she could to him, and told herself over and over again that she had never loved anyone else, as much as him. Love- there was that word again. But somehow, somewhere along the line she failed, and in between her finding out about Biko, and Biko's 2nd birthday, she had become the bane of Peter's existence. Her silence and avoidance swelling between them.

As Biko grew within her Peter became- it seemed to her at the time- more demanding. He wanted to get married, he wanted to move back to Jamaica- permanently, he wanted her to stop traveling so much, he wanted her to maybe reconsider her insistence on teaching Biko French so young. Couldn't he always learn it in school? From the moment he learned that she was pregnant with Biko, it all changed. They couldn't agree on anything now. Where to raise Biko, how to raise him. Would he grow up as a vegan, vegetarian or eat meat (Peter was hoping he could grow up vegan)? Would he grow locs as soon as his hair grew out (Santos wasn't opposed to locs, she wanted to keep his hair long). On top of all these disagreements, arguments, and full on fights, Santos was having a terrible pregnancy. The truth was she didn't even want to be pregnant.