The Destination

The sky is grey, pulling all the colours out of the meadows. Even the sheep look gloomy as they huddle together. The drizzling splashes on my windshield with a rate that’s enough to block my view, but just not enough to leave the wipers on.

‘Turn right here’, Google maps informs me that I’ve almost reached my destination for this weekend: a nice B&B at the foot of a mill. It’s Friday and my job is done here! Just one weekend and I can go back home. It’s been a wonderful year here in the Netherlands, but I’m also glad I’m leaving again.

Unsure whether I’m staying in cottage b or c, it’s time to check the confirmation. Standing in the middle of a small country road and hoping that it’s as quiet as it looks like, I check my e-mail, but it stays unclear. They do mention that the door is open, and the key is on the table. There’s nothing else to do but to take a look.

The view is amazing! At the right side of the road, a small cottage with two doors, flanked by two chairs and a table at each side, is tactically placed right in front of a Dutch flour mill. It ensures a nice view over the meadow filled with sheep, and the tree line a little further away. They even have a parking place with gravel in front of the cottage.

Before taking all the baggage out, I decide to check the cottages first. In cottage c “Tom” is welcomed, so obviously b is for me. Time to get my things and unpack!

The cottage is small, but cosy, clean and well equipped, more like a tiny house. Behind the French doors with blinds, there’s a small table with two chairs on the right. On the table, next to the “welcome” sign, a pack of cookies is left behind for me. My stomach is already looking forwards to a nice cup of tea and some of those cookies, and since it had to skip lunch, it growls in anticipation.

A door on the left leads to a tiny, but complete bathroom, with a sink, toilet and shower. A stair with five steps leads down to two separate beds with a small table between them. Straight ahead from the steps, against the wall, a refrigerator with a microwave on top and a side table with a hotplate. Next to the step a bed, already made. The second bed is against the furthest wall. Above the bed and the refrigerator two small windows, also with blinds.

While the kettle is on, I first close all the blinds and take my laptop out of the backpack. A few minutes later, all settled in with my tea and cookies, watching my favourite Netflix series, there’s a soft knock on my door. One moment I feel uncomfortable in my sweatpants and oversized, warm sailor sweater, but hey, I came here for my peace, quiet and solitude, so: whatever!

While putting my chest up and straightening my back a little bit more, I first open the blinds at the door a bit – just to close them even faster, as my blood seems to have organised a crisis meeting in my cheeks; it’s simply impossible how handsome this man is!

Curious dark blue, almost green eyes, with dark blond hair and a beard of probably a day or two.

In a futile attempt to save a bit of my appearance, I pull the zipper of my sweater down, remove the rubber band out of my hair and run through it with my hands.

‘Yes?’

‘Weet jij misschien wat het wachtwoord van de WIFI is?’

‘Excuse me?’

‘Oh, you’re English, no problem! Do you know the WIFI password?’

‘Canadian, and yes, it was in the confirmation, it’s Yesterday-1.’

‘Stupid, I could have known that. I should have checked my mail first.’

‘I’m pretty sure it’s in the manual too…’ my voice unconsciously trails off, while my eyes can’t seem to let his go.

‘Sorry, I should…’ he starts, pointing vaguely behind him, but he seems as reluctant to finish his sentence as he is to leave.

‘Would you like something to drink?’ I hear myself ask him to my own surprise. When did I decide that? Where did I find the courage to ask? ‘I have red wine or whisky, but it’s a bit early for the latter for me.’

‘Red wine is nice, thanks.’ He steps inside and I close the door behind him. There’s little room between the table and the wall, so we are forced to stand quite close to one another. I pass him to get the bottle from the side table downstairs and suddenly realise the glasses are near the front door. He distracts me!

With the bottle in my hand, I walk the few steps back to the door and see my bra hanging in plain sight. Well… Nothing to do about that. It’s my holiday and all, and I didn’t expect to see a living soul this whole weekend.

‘Do you want to sit down?’ I ask as I look around and try to decide where I want him to sit. ‘You can sit here, on the bed,’ as I point to the unmade bed. With the bottle in one hand, I pick the backpack with my stuff up with my other and place it on the ground, next to the bed. He comes down and passes me to sit on the bed, looks surprised at my bra, turns red and politely decides to ignore it.

‘So, you’re Tom, my neighbour, I suppose?’

He looks surprised.

‘I saw the welcome sign in your tiny house and since you asked for the WIFI password…’

‘Yes, I’m Tom. I must confess it was a very lame excuse, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say hi. You probably didn’t see me; I just came back from a walk, and I saw you arrive this afternoon. I was wondering why you wanted to come into my cottage, until I realised I was so enthusiastic about the surroundings when I arrived, I just put my stuff downstairs and walked out, leaving the key on the table. I’m from Rotterdam and it’s so crowded there… I just had to get out for some fresh air!’

Meanwhile I finally managed to get the glasses and poured the wine.

‘Nice to meet you, Tom, my name is Liza.’

‘Cheers. Why are you here, Liza?’

‘It was my job to implement a CRM system for a big customer. I just finished it, so I decided to take this weekend off before I go home.’

‘And where’s home?’

‘Toronto.’

‘Ah…’

Tom seems a bit uncomfortable now.

‘And uhm… Is there someone waiting for you? There? In Toronto?’

Ah, that’s why!

‘Nope. And you?’

‘Not in Toronto!’ he tries to joke and then obviously realises that means there is someone. ‘Or any place at all, I mean.’

Nice safe, though.

‘What do you do, Tom?’

‘I’m a web developer.’

That seemed to be the cue, because I suddenly realise it’s starting to get lighter again in the room. Both my bottles of wine are emptied, and the whisky is halved. The funny thing is that I don’t feel drunk. At least, not caused by the alcohol. We have been talking straight through the night, nibbling from the snacks I brought – fortunately, I brought quite a lot, not knowing that would be dinner for two!

This is the first time I’ve been talking a whole night with someone. We’re both lying in a bed now, tucked in under the blankets, looking at each other.

Suddenly the look in his eyes and the atmosphere changes.

‘I think I’m going to get some sleep now.’

For a brief moment a look of disappointment crosses Tom’s face. But he’s a gentleman, so he get’s up and walks to the door.

‘This was the most wonderful night of my life! It feels like destiny that we’ve met like this,’ he whispers as he gives a small kiss on my cheek. ‘Do you think you want to meet later today? It’s my turn for the snacks and supplies.’

One part of me doesn’t want this – whatever this is – to be over. The other part is very fond of my freedom. But I look into his eyes for a second too long and hear myself say he can come over at four this afternoon.

A soft knock on the door reveals his presence again. He brought a cold Indian curry.

‘We can warm this later, when we’re hungry. I think this wine will be excellent with it.’ And he puts two bottles of red wine on the table.

We start talking at the table and decide after a while that it isn’t very comfortable, so we move to the beds again. We pick the conversation up as if there hadn’t been a break.

At some point, somewhere deep in the night, I decide to sit next to him. Again, the atmosphere changes, but this time, I let it all happen.   

We wake up Sunday late in the evening.

‘What time is it?’

‘Almost eleven thirty, why?’

‘My plane! I must leave at midnight, or I’ll miss my flight!’

Panic courses through my veins now. Tom sits straight up in bed with a strange look on his face, but I don’t have time for that now. Rushing through the tiny house, I try to gather my things. It isn’t a lot, but thirty minutes… Will I make it in time?

Tom gets up and puts his clothes on. Why is he acting this way? He moves so…

With my bra in my hand, I suddenly stop and turn around. He looks lost.

My mind wonders off, to Toronto, my home, my life there. Just two days ago, I couldn’t wait to go home. And now…

Tom sits down and looks at his hands. They’re trembling.

The clock on my phone says it’s 11:57 pm. Three minutes before I have to leave. Suddenly I feel week in my knees, so I sit down, opposite to Tom. For a while we just sit there.

‘Tom, I…’

‘Shh… Don’t say anything, I know.’

Two minutes.

‘What do you know?’

‘That you have to go! I just didn’t know it was this soon. I didn’t know when you’d be leaving. With everything we talked about, for two amazing nights in a row, this is the one thing we absolutely avoided; that you are leaving again.’

‘You have to leave this B&B too.’ I say petulant, but I do understand what he means. He stays here, in the Netherlands, I leave the country. We could’ve easily arranged to meet again, if we both lived here. But I’ll fly halfway across the globe, and I don’t feel much for a Zoom relationship. As I close my eyes, again, images of my home appear in my mind’s eye. This time my home feels colourless, empty, cold. Sadness fills me and slowly starts running over, making my eyes water.

When I open my eyes and see Tom sitting there, a feeling of joy and happiness bubbles deep inside of me.

11:59 pm. Time to go.

‘Tom…’

He stands up, takes my hand and pulls me up. He wraps himself around me and holds me really tight. I feel him shiver in my arms.

‘Tom…!’

He slowly lets go and walks to the door. He picks up my backpack and opens the door for me. He looks away and rubs his nose with his free hand, in an attempt to hide his tears.

My alarm goes off. Time to choose my destination.

‘Tom…! I’m staying!’