The Open Secret

8

Once, Sigrid told him that cabinet formation is a lot like childbirth.

Rob has no basis of comparison, obviously, but he thinks it sounds about right: messy, bloody, long, and painful. Then, the end result is a seemingly lovely coalition that might fall apart in a month or be forced to resign in a year after a scandal. Like any child, it could grow up to be a success or turn out to be a dysfunctional nightmare, or somewhere in between, as is the case most of the time.

He loses track of the number of times he has to talk Jesse off the ledge and keep him from pulling out of talks. Sigrid handles the others with her deft, diplomatic touch, and through their combined efforts, by some miracle, they reach an agreement by mid-December. No one is thrilled with it in the end, but everyone can live with it at least, and the country lets out a collective sigh of relief as the longest formation in history comes to a close.

There is a celebratory feeling in the air at the annual holiday party held for members and staff in the main hall of the Kamer building a week later. It's always a festive affair, but it feels exceptionally so this time around, as the ugly past year comes to a close and they prepare to begin a new chapter in the next. It's black-tie dress, and the building is as decorated as the guests, with garland lining the railings of the second-story walkways, lights hanging across the span of the room, and a towering Christmas tree situated in the middle. A string quartet is stationed in the corner, the sounds of their rendition of 'Greensleeves' flitting through the air and making the hall feel like an intimate venue despite its size.

Mulled wine is on offer, which has always been his weakness, and Rob imbibes a bit more than he should, but he figures that he's earned it between all the sleepless nights and endless days. He spends the first hour circulating around the room until he retreats up to the walkway on the second story, where he takes a moment to gaze down at the party below.

He finds Jesse at once, his eyes drawn to him instinctively, though he can't deny he was searching for him. He is there in a crisp black suit and bowtie with a drink in his hand, laughing about something with Lilianne Ploumen, Labour's party leader. He's so naturally magnetic, Rob thinks, and dangerously aware of the effect he has on people. He can draw the eyes of a crowd in seconds. He can't take his eyes off him.

He should be happy the formation is over, and he is. Of course he is. The work of the Kamer has concluded for the year. They have recessed until January. Usually, their winter break is the time of the year he looks forward to more than anything, yet he can't help but feel agitated knowing he won't see him for almost a month. He's restless already just thinking about it.

Christmas is a time to spend with family. Jesse will be with his. He will be with his, too. It's the natural order of things. It's the way their lives are; they run parallel, overlapping occasionally, but fundamentally they are separate and always will be. Yet sometimes, he wishes-

"Merry Christmas."

A voice draws him out of his thoughts. He looks over and finds Sigrid approaching, clad in a forest green dress with a glass of wine in her hand. She peers at him through narrowed eyes, as if she can tell he'd been lost in his own mind. To some extent, he realizes he always is; whenever he isn't with him, he just spends his time wishing he could be.

Rob nods back, raising his cup to her. "Merry Christmas, Sigrid."

She takes her place at his side and leans on the railing, too, observing the party with him as it carries on below. Thierry Baudet is surrounded by a flock of fawning sycophants from his party and seems to be drunk already, dancing around the string quartet while miming one of the violinists. He spots Rutte in one corner, talking to Wopke Hoekstra with the biggest smile he's seen on his face since his near downfall earlier in the year.