Songs for the chapter:
Send Me On My Way — Rusted Root
— if you've never listened to it before I highly suggest listening to it as a it plays a cute part it the chapter. I'll add a * where the song comes into play!
📍 Dunkirk — 2020
"Hmmm, okay, favorite vegetable! I feel like that's not a common question in this game." Harry said, biting into his veggie wrap.
"That's true, not many people ask that, honestly kinda bornin'." I giggled and his face dropped, eyes rolling soon after making me giggle more, "I really love carrots, cause they go with literally everything. Hummus, ranch, salads, stews, on the side of sammies. Did you know in Mexico they pickle them in jalapeño juice?! My mum's friend brought us back some once, fucking spectacular!"
"You think the car will make it to Mexico?" He said, raising both eyebrows playfully.
"Possibly, if we try hard enough." I chuckled, pulling a cucumber out of my wrap and popping it in my mouth. I reached for the three different shades of blue watercolors that I had, starting to paint in the ocean that separated us from Dover. Harry was right, it was clear enough today to see straight across, and the mighty white wall stood out clearly.
"You know, I think my favorite vegetable is spinach. Like it can also complete any meal. Especially in like.... a butter pasta? Now that's fucking spectacular."
"I think pasta is just spectacular in general, especially when it's homemade!" I said, glancing up at the view, making sure I was getting the colors right.
"Do you know how to make it from scratch?"
"Ovviamente, Harry!" I said, mimicking my nona's accent.
He chuckled, "Dovrai insegnarmelo."
("You must teach me")
My eyes widened, turning to him as I heard him speak Italian, his accent so beautifully placed, "You speak Italian?"
"Solo un po', I'm still learning, but I really love the language. It's so beautiful to me." He smiled and I nodded.
("Just a little bit...")
"It is, I love expressing affection in it. Like it's just such a warm language you know? It feels almost like being wrapped up in a warm hug, I adore it. And maybe I'm biased, but I don't care. It's my favorite." I chuckled, biting my lip softly.
"Well maybe you can teach me as we go, I'll be fluent by the time we get to Italy!" He exclaimed, my eyes narrowing. I placed my watercolor pen down, leaning back on my hands.
"And what's in it for me? My mother taught me to be a bargaining woman, and this seems like one of those moments."
He laughed that hearty laugh I now learned made my stomach flip instantly, the flush creeping over my chest that I was thankful was hidden by my shirt, "Your mum was smart for that. Well...what's something you've always wanted to learn?"
"Mmm, the piano. I've been told I have the perfect finger length for playing the piano, but I've never gotten to test it out. Might be missing my true calling by not attempting it." I shrugged, pretending to play the piano in front of me.
"Well we can't have that, now can we! Alright, deal. I'll teach you to play, you teach me Italian." He held out his hand to me, reaching over, I took it in my own, the immediate warmth creeping up my arm from his touch.
"Deal." I smiled, our hands seemed to be held tightly together by the same magnetic force of simply touching his finger before, "So did you find our humble abode in Amsterdam yet?"
I swallowed, our hands finally slipping away from one another, "I think so. I think you'll enjoy the aesthetics, colorful, homey. Warm."
"Well let me see!" I said, pushing up from my hands, sitting up straight.
He chuckled, taking a quick bite of his wrap before tapping on his phone screen until he got to where he wanted. He turned the phone around, handing it over to me. I flipped the phone over, looking at the rental listing, my eyes widening at the sight. It looked perfectly lived in, the colors and patterns mixed yet so cohesively laced.
"You know, I wasn't sure what our living arrangements would be exactly after Dover. A part of me was expecting higher scale, modern vibes. This is not that, and I love it." I smiled, glancing up at him and handing him his phone back.
"I uh....I kinda picked it cause it reminded me of you. It felt like the way you described your mom. It felt like comfort." He smiled timidly, his hand tangling in the hairs at the nape of his neck.
"Harry..." I bit my lip shaking my head, throwing myself back on the sand softly, "It does feel like her, just from the picture." I turned to face him, scared he would shut me down like before, "What's the feeling you would attach to your step-dad?"
Harry cleared his throat, laying back on the sand. His hand moved to shield his eyes from the sun, turning to face me, "I dunno. I'm sorry, I don't have a response...I just—..."
"...Harry, it's fine. How about instead, what makes you think of him. Like...an activity, or a food. I'm not prying, I swear...it's just, talking helps." I smiled a bit.
"I know...um, he used to love to dance. In the kitchen, our living room. It made my mum so happy. She would laugh and he would dip her around." He let a sharp breath out, turning away from me.
"My mum did too, loved dancing, I mean. She couldn't seem to cook without having an entire dance routine attached to it. And then she would start singing, oh lord, horribly off key." I giggled, holding my stomach as I did, "The cats would run away, I'm not even joking."
He laughed to my relief, turning back to me, "Yeah he would sing the songs as he danced. Also horribly off key, my mum would always tell him he could run me out of the business with his voice."
He laughed, smiling softly into his left cheek, his dimple slightly appearing; then it dropped, a soft tension to his face, "The house felt so silent after. Coming back. No singing."
I searched his face, my eyebrows furrowing softly, "Were you there? When he passed?"
"No. I was working. I was always working." He closed his eyes, turning his head towards the sky again.
"Hey....don't do that," I said softly, reaching across, my hand over his softly, "You were doing what you needed to be doing. You had responsibilities, commitme—.."
"...—and what about my commitment to my family? My responsibility to my stepfather?" His tone was harsh, my hand squeezing his tighter.
"Did you ever blame your mum, for missing school activities, because she was working? Trying to make a living for you?" I said gently, not trying to lecture him on something I knew was hurting his soul.
"No. But that's different, she's my mum, she was trying to—..."
"...—make life better for you? Right? Isn't that what you were doing essentially? Isn't your mum's life a little better because of the blessings you bring?"
"Catalina, just stop, please." He said, gently pushing my hand away and sitting up. I swallowed, turning my gaze up to the sky. I knew pain and grief were dealt with differently; I knew that when the two tangled with guilt, it never made things easier. I took a deep breath, sitting up and resuming my painting. I didn't want to take it further than where I had pushed.
We sat in silence for the next hour, and even though the tension was there, somehow, it didn't feel uncomfortable. Maybe it was because I knew that this trip would have these moments. I knew this trip was about healing, I knew it was about pain. I just hoped he knew I didn't mind these moments.
I felt like a downright asshole, but I couldn't control what I was feeling at the moment. All these years of never properly dealing with his passing had made my heart and mind numb to any conversation revolving around it. I didn't know how to grasp on to time and healing, the two seemed to never line up.
I glanced down at my phone, knowing we needed to start driving soon to make it on time for check in. I glanced up at Catalina as she painted, her tongue pushed into her cheek, her bucket hat pulled down low. I took a deep breath, finding the courage to speak, "We gotta get going soon, you almost done?"
She nodded, closing the pen and sticking it behind her ear, "Yeah, I've been done. I was just adding some detail. I'll rest it on top of the luggage in the back to dry." She carefully began putting her things away, starting to stand up, her painting in one hand. I quickly got up, gently reaching for the painting.
"Thanks." She smiled, dusting her pants free of sand, throwing her bag over her shoulder. She took the painting from me, as we made our way back to the car.
The first hour of the ride up to Amsterdam was silent and internally I was beating myself up for reacting the way I did. Nothing about the silence felt awkward, I somehow still felt safe in this quiet moment; I just missed the sound of her voice telling me the next nonsense thing that came to her mind.
"Maybe some music, for the rest of the ride? I'm not tired, but the silence is making me doze off." I said, trying to break the tension.
She glanced over at me, looking up from her sketchbook, "Um, sure. Does it matter what?"
"No, just anything." I said, tightening my grip around the steering wheel. Out of the corner of my eye I watched Catalina place down her sketchbook, opening up the glove compartment. Her finger skimmed over the CDs until a playful smile came to her face. She pulled out her choice, replacing the current CD in the player, switching everything out properly. I glanced over, watching her bite her lip looking at the track list quickly skipping over to the appropriate song.
*The playful tune of "Send Me On My Way" started playing, her body moving from side to side to the rhythm, "On my way, on my way, on my way..." she sang, bouncing her shoulders up and down as she did, "I would like to, reach out my hand, oombayseeyou, oombaytellyou to run." She kept signing, this time towards me, her hand dramatically reaching out to me.
"Boomba dahasay boomba deyum!" She blurted out, causing me to burst into laughter.
"What did you just sing?" I said, still laughing.
"The lyrics, duh! On my way, on my way, Boomba dahasay boomba deyum!" She sang, bubbling into a fit of giggles, "Harry you have to take over, I can't go on, the people must know the rest of the song."
"I would like to hold my little hand, and we will run, we will, we will crawl! Semi semi whey!" I sang out, playing along and changing the lyrics as well, only bringing her further into a fit of giggles. We continued singing the song to each other, each adapting our lyric changes. By the end, I was wiping away tears from my eyes with my knuckles, my stomach in pain from laughing so hard.
I could hear her soft giggles as she tried to calm down, my face turning towards her, her bottom lip was rolled into her mouth, her face red from laughing, long lashes coated in tears. She had melted away anything that had happened before, that hour of silence like it never had even happened.
I shook my head slightly, breathing out a final laugh, "Thank you, Catalina."
She shrugged, taking off her bucket hat and ruffling her curls a bit, "For what? An amazing performance?"
"Yeah, sure. For that." I chuckled, facing back towards the road, "What do you want to do when we get to Amsterdam?"
"Well, let's see what Alessia Sloane had planned," she leaned forward, pulling out her mothers diary, flipping through the pages until she found Amsterdam. She chuckled a bit, "She wanted to get high, visit the red light district..." Her eyebrows wiggled at me and I chuckled.
"She also wanted to visit the Anne Frank house, of course has to keep some of the trip classy and cultured. So, how about, we grab dinner, find out where they sell the good stuff and then go about our evening? Is that alright with you pop star?"
Big doe eyes traced my face, almost as if trying to figure out what my limits were going to be exactly. I felt so warm from how her eyes searched me, I swallowed, breaking the tension, "My mind works a little bit better when it's up high anyways."
She chuckled, "Perfect. I like being up in the clouds too." She continued reading over her mum's diary, licking the front of her teeth as she did, "She really wanted to try bitterballens and stampot. No idea what either of those things are."
"I know what stampot is, it is basically mash on another level. We also have to try pancakes. Literally the Dutch invented them." I said, turning slightly to watch her add in notes to the diary.
"Oh! Oh you know what I want to try. Those thin waffer like cookies, with the caramel filling. With a hot cup of coffee. Oh my gosh my mouth is watering. I'm about to start drooling."
We both laughed, "Have you had fries with Mayo? It's a big thing there."
"Mayo? That's disgusting." She made a face, sticking out her tongue.
"Don't put down others food choices, you haven't even tried it!" I said, shaking my finger at her.
She grabbed it, pretending to bite it, making me chuckle, "I hate mayo."
I gasped dramatically, "Excuse me? So you eat your sammies dry?"
"No with mustard!" She scrunched her nose at me, confused by my dramatics.
"That's not the same, it doesn't sink into the bread the same way."
"It's greasy and disgusting."
"You're greasy and disgusting!" I shot back playfully, making her eyes widen, before she flung her bucket hat at me.
"Hey! Driving here!" I chuckled, placing it on top of my head, pulling it down securely, "Now you're never getting it back."
"It's out of style anyways, you keep it." She shrugged, pouting a bit at me causing me to roll my eyes.
"When I start setting trends, you'll want it back and I won't give it back." I teased.
"It's okay, you'll probably accidentally leave it under the bed for me to find." She snorted.
"Leave it under the bed for me to find," I mimicked, "Imma make you walk to Amsterdam, smart mouth."
"No, please don't, I'm weak, I'm weak." She pushed the back of her hand into her forehead, throwing her head back, her eyes closed until she peeks one at me.
"You are literally a pain, you know that?" I chuckled, rustling her hair a bit. She knocked my hand away.
"Listen pop star, I'm wonderful and that's all I am, got it?" She pointed her finger at me, this time I leaned over, pretending to bite it.
"Let's just get to Amsterdam, I'll decide how wonderful you are later." I rolled my eyes playfully at her.
"Deal."
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Thank you for all the reads, votes and comments! I CANT BELIEVE I'M ABOUT TO HIT 2K READS?!
This is a shorter chapter, but the next one is going to be one of my favs.
𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚟𝚘𝚝𝚎, 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 & 𝚜𝚊𝚟𝚎.
- 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚢 💋
@𝚑𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚜