A/n sorry, no sex in this chapter.
*****
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."
