To Call My Life My Own

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay today, Will?” Lucy asked, her concern heavy even through Willem’s phone.

“Yes,” Willem sighed, shifting his phone to balance between his ear and his shoulder while he unlocked his office door.

“I mean, I can call in sick for you at work and you can just chill out all day at home and…”

“Luce, I’m already at work. Thank you, really, but I’ll be okay. The anniversary has happened before and it’ll happen again, I’ve got to get through it by keeping busy,” Willem interrupted.

“If you’re sure,” Lucy murmured, still sounding doubtful.

“I am, I promise. We can talk about my pent-up feelings over a bottle of wine later if it’ll make you happy,” Willem mused.

“Pinky promise?” Lucy asked.

“Pinky promise,” Willem nodded, smiling to himself.

“Alright then. But if you need anything, anyone to talk to, then just give me a call, okay?” Lucy demanded.

“I will. Bye Luce,” Willem said.

“Bye,”

Willem ended the call and sat down at his desk, running a hand over his hair. Lucy always worried about him on this day. It was the anniversary of his mother’s death after all, 4 years today.

4 years. How time had passed. Had it really been that long since he’d last seen her? Since he’d rushed home from his college graduation with her to take her straight to hospital, the visit that she never left hospital from? Sure, he knew it was coming. Her battle with breast cancer had been a long one, but she was still his mother. She was still the woman that had brought him up almost entirely by herself.

And now she was gone.
Now he had taken her place for his younger sisters.

“Um, Sir?”

The department secretary. He never felt quite comfortable by the fact she called them all Sir instead of their actual names. Oh well.

“Yes, Candice?” Willem asked, trying to smile at least a little.

“Um, there’s been a delivery for you,” she said.

“A delivery?” Willem asked, trying to draw more information from her.

Sometimes, it was just painful trying to talk to this girl.

“Yeah, a boy brought in a few things for you,” she nodded.

“Did he have glasses?”

“Yeah,”

“Did he seem really shy?”

“Yeah,”

“Was he really cute?”

“Yeah,”

Noah!

“Great, would you mind bringing it in here?” Willem asked, smiling for real this time.

The secretary nodded, smiling back, and disappeared.

Moments later, she came back holding a small paper bag, which he took eagerly.

“Here you go. Have a good morning Sir,” she said politely, before leaving.

Willem looked inside the paper bag and smiled even more. Inside was a coffee cup and a box, no doubt containing something delicious. Attached to the coffee cup was a note.

‘Good morning Will,

I hope this doesn’t seem strange, but I thought you might need cheering up. I know how hard today is for you. If you need anything, even just someone to rant at, you know where I am.

Noah x’

Willem would save this note forever. In private, obviously, where no-one else would know he’d saved it. But he would save it all the same.

Mm, decaf mocha with whipped cream. His favourite and his rare treat. And a box of chocolate lime biscuits. Also a rare treat. He would have to thank Noah for this, seriously thank him.

How did Noah know him so well?

Thinking about it, Willem realised that Noah had always been there. Like, really always been there. He was there on that first Saturday, where Willem stumbled into the shop followed by his distressed twin sisters, fumbling and confused until Noah had calmed him down and got him to think straight. Noah had always been there at the end of a hectic week with his shy smile and sweet nature, always there to lend a listening ear, despite Lucy endeavours to embarrass him. And Noah always knew what to say, even if it was just a few words or a lengthy explanation about which pastries would send his sisters into a sugar rush.

Noah had been there through the frustration, the tears, the depression, the worries, the laughter…everything.

Noah had always been there.

How had he not seen it before?

Now he had even more reason to adore the young boy. Even if he could never outwardly admit it. Not really.

Even so, thinking about Noah was a welcome relief from thinking about his mother. Dwelling on her memory today was not something Willem really wished to do. Sure, he would get out the photo albums with his childhood pictures in to show his sisters tonight, just so that they had an image of her in their minds, and he would tell stories, tell them his memories, but that could be reserved for tonight.

Today, he could think about Noah.
One day of thinking about what he could never have wouldn’t hurt, right?