Chapter Text
It was an exceptionally warm summer day. Yes, the sun was blasting but it had also rained the day before and the humidity was just disgusting. She made the mistake of walking to work and she felt it everywhere. After three hours or so of trying not to think about clothes sticking to her body or the damp hair at the back of her neck that she could just feel curling in an unflattering fashion, she decided it was best to call it a day.
It was Friday anyway, and she let people work shorter weeks during the summer, encouraging them to spend time with their families instead of coming in when it was slow anyway. As it turned out, people worked better during those four days, they were happier knowing a three-day break awaited them. She was considering the new work arrangement even after the off-season ended. So, on Fridays, she was pretty much alone, having the entire building to herself.
She didn’t mind it. She liked the quiet nowadays, and she, quite honestly, had nothing better to do.
It didn’t bother her anymore, being alone. She was calmer now, not as distracted as she used to be. She had time. So much time. Her life was mundane but she liked it that way. She liked waking up in the morning knowing exactly what was coming next. No surprises, no chance of getting blindsided, all that was waiting for her was just a silent, simple life.
And she might’ve been alone quite a bit but that didn’t mean she was lonely.
It’s been six years.
Six years ago, she had run into the man from Amsterdam, Matthijs, and somehow, someway, six years had passed and he was still in her life.
She was grateful for it.
He was away a lot and she was grateful for that too. She didn’t know if it came with age but she enjoyed the time she had to herself much more than the time she shared with him.
Still, she wasn’t interested in breaking things off, as much as she liked him away, she also liked not being single. It saved her from questions and looks and most importantly it saved her from having to date again. Because as much as she hated to admit it, as much as she tried to convince herself she would be fine with it, Rebecca Welton didn’t want to end up alone.
Being alone was fine, enjoyable even, but the thought of growing old, of watching her friends with their grandchildren while she was left alone in that big, quiet house quite literally made her sick.
So, no, as much as she was relieved a couple of weeks back when he told her he’d be spending the summer in the Mediterranean, taking snorkeling lessons, she was in no way, shape, or form interested in becoming single.
Her feet were burning, her heels digging into her skin as she walked home, quickening her step at the thought of the coolness that awaited in her house.
She shut the door behind her, gasping in relief as she leaned against the door before kicking her heels off, watching as the shoes hit the wall before landing on the floor.
She couldn’t care to pick the pair up and place it away delicately. She reached for the buttons of her blouse instead, opening a few up and fanning herself.
The house was, as usual, quiet. It’s been a while since anyone but she and Mina had even stepped foot inside. Matthijs had been away for weeks and Jelka had been spending more and more time in Amsterdam. Come to think of it, she hadn’t been home in months. At least, not Rebecca’s home.
She grabbed a hair clip, sighing softly as she clipped her hair up, the cool air hitting her neck. Barefoot, she walked to the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of cold water, and emptying it in seconds. The liquid slid down her throat, cooling her insides before she let out a long breath, a mix of relief and tiredness.
She looked at her house, at the clean surfaces, and tidied objects. It was only a minute but the silence was slowly becoming louder and louder until she couldn’t take it anymore. Placing the glass back down she walked upstairs, her feet barely touching the second step when she heard her phone ringing.
Reluctantly, she stepped down, back to her door when she abandoned her purse. She fished her phone out, furrowing her eyebrows at the unknown number displayed on the screen for a moment before sliding her finger across it to answer.
“Hello?” she asked.
“Rebecca?” she heard a young voice ask, “I’m sorry - Ms. Welton, it’s Henry. Henry Lasso, I don’t know if you remember me,”
Her lips parted, her hand pressed to her chest, feeling her heart beating wildly under her fingertips.
“Henry,” she breathed, “Of course, hi,”
“Hi,” he said, and she could hear him smiling on the other side.
She had often wondered, over the years, as she watched other children grow up, how Henry was doing. She wondered, especially when the club was doing well if he was there on the other side of the world, watching, she wondered how he had spent his Christmases and his birthdays, if his hair was still the same vibrant colour or if he had grown out of it. She wondered if he was happy. Almost as often as she wondered if his father was happy.
“I’m really sorry to bother you but I - I could use a favour,” he said slowly, “and I don’t know who to turn to because, well, I think you’re the only person who could help and I– I don’t know it might be silly but I’m freaking out a little. I don’t know -” he breathed, “I don’t know if you and my Dad are still friendly like that but I was just - I guess I was hoping those years were still a good enough memory for you to meet up with me.”
She swallowed thickly around the knot in her throat, taking a sharp breath and quickly forcing herself to focus again.
“Of course,” she said softly, her voice barely shaking, “I – uh, I was supposed to visit New York next month if that’s - ”
“Oh, no, no, I’m in London,” he said, “I’m actually in front of your house. Or - well, I hope it’s still your house, I’m not so sure looking at it now, to be honest - ”
“I - ” she stammered.
“Shoot, I’m sorry, that’s real invasive - ”
“No, no, wait,” she smiled, “It’s, uh – it’s okay, just give me a second.”
She put her heels back on, wincing just a bit before she fixed her blouse and took a quick look in the mirror.
Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the phone again, pressing it to her ear as she opened the front door.
She looked around and then took a few steps outside and noticed Henry standing three houses away. She smiled.
“Look to your left,” she said into the phone, watching as he furrowed his eyebrows and looked over, grinning when he noticed her. He put his phone in his pocket and hurried to her, quickening his step until he was jogging.
He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, “Close enough,” he breathed, smiling.
They laughed and looked at each other for a second before she opened her arms and he took a couple of steps to hug her tightly.
It’s been over six years since she last saw him. She has seen pictures, of course, though she never received any from Ted, she’s seen enough to know who he was. Even if she wouldn’t, he started to resemble his father in a way that made her heart ache. She’d recognize those eyes anywhere.
She took another look at him as they let go, gently cupping his face.
‘‘My God, look at you,’’ she whispered.
He smiled at her, genuinely, if a little embarrassed but very happy to see her.
She shook her head and he chuckled.
“Come in,” she said softly, her throat thick as she stepped off to the side so he could walk past her.
She guided him to the kitchen and offered him some water before she made them both some tea, delighted to hear he was a fan of the drink.
They chatted for a bit, she asked him how he had been and he started telling her all about a festival he went to recently, how one of the concerts there was his best, and replaced the previous best that was also his first.
It didn’t take her long to notice that Henry inherited more than his father’s physical features. He was just as chatty and he was just as kind. Just as caring. He was asking her questions and making her laugh and for a few moments there she forgot that she hadn’t seen or heard of him for six years. Just like Ted, he was out of her life now for twice as long as he had been in it. And yet, two empty cups and an hour of talking to him later, she didn’t feel it at all. It was as if that young man before her had always been there, like nothing ever changed, nothing ever broke.
It took a while before her curiosity took over.
“Not that I don’t love just seeing you,” she said, “but you mentioned a favour?”
“Right, yes,’’ he smiled shyly. ‘‘I don’t really know how to phrase this without sounding - okay, well, I’m hoping to get into college here or uni as you call it, and I was just down there today, at the admissions office at King’s college.’’
‘‘Congratulations, Henry,’’ she said softly.
‘‘Thank you,’’ he said, his lips barely curling into a smile, ‘‘but uh – I’m not so sure it’s happening.’’
‘‘Why?’’ she asked, concerned.
‘‘Well, the man I was talking to today, he’s a big fan of AFC Richmond…but not my father.’’
‘‘Ah,’’ she breathed, nodding understandingly.
‘‘And I couldn’t really squeeze my way out of that because I don’t know how many Lassos there are in London but I’m guessing it’s not a lot so I couldn’t deny that my Dad was my Dad and he really didn’t seem too happy about that and now I’m sort of freaking out and - ”
“Oh, darling,’’ she said, reaching for his hand across the table, for a reassuring squeeze, ‘‘Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.”
“You - you will?”
“It was Nigel, wasn’t it? Herring?”
“I think so…yeah, that sounds right.”
She hummed, “He never liked your father. I was told on many occasions how hiring him was the biggest mistake ever made in the history of football.”
Henry wrinkled his nose, “Even after almost winning the whole thing?”
She chuckled, “Especially after almost winning the whole thing.”
“Huh.”
She smiled at his perplexed expression.
“I’ll give him a call, no worries. He owes me a favour or two.”
He let out a relieved breath, “Thank you,” he said, dropping his face into his hands, “Thank you, really.”
“It’s not a problem at all,” she said softly.
“I feel like I can breathe again,” he chuckled, running his fingers through his hair.
She shook her head at him, smiling.
“So, you’re moving to London?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said, “I’m excited. I always liked it here and I can be closer to Dad again and - ”
It took her a moment to repeat Henry’s words in her head, to say it to herself.
“What?” she asked suddenly, interrupting Henry in the middle of a sentence.
‘‘Sorry?’’
‘‘You,’’ she breathed, ‘‘you can be closer - ’’
“Well, yeah, you know, I’ve seen him since he’s been back obviously but he moved back to Kansas for me all those years ago so it seemed right that I do the same this time round. Plus, I love it here so it was an easy decision, really - ”
“He’s - Ted is here?” she asked, her voice broken and thick as she stood there, completely frozen in spot, her vision blurring and her head feeling uncomfortably light.
Henry furrowed his eyebrows at her, confused, “You - didn’t he - ”
She shook her head, her throat closing up.
“I - I don’t know why,” Henry said softly.
She gasped at the sudden sharp pain in her abdomen, lasting only a second before she sniffled quietly, wiping away the single tear that ran down her cheek and forced a smile. But just like his father used to do, Henry too, could see right through her.
‘‘Rebecca – ’’ he said, the worry on his face clear as he stood and reached for her.
She waved him off, the air slowly returning into her lungs.
“We haven’t…been in contact,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry,’’ he said, ‘‘I thought - ”
“It’s okay,” she said, sniffling again before reaching for tissues on the counter behind her. “How - how long has he been here?” she asked, taking a tissue out of its packet and wiping her wet cheeks.
Henry hesitated for a moment before he gently spoke, “Almost three months.”
She huffed sadly, looking away, “Yeah,” she said quietly, “seems about right.”