Dreams Can Come True

51. Family problems

After the phone call with Charlotte, I felt a heavy burden resting on my shoulders due to the unexpected turn of events with the apartment dossier. As I turned my gaze to Bas, I saw him sitting by the window in the living room, the curtains gently fluttering in the breeze seeping through the crack. Bas sat on the windowsill, his figure outlined against the light streaming through the window, quietly smoking a cigarette. His features were marked by a mixture of thoughts and emotions, his eyes focused on something beyond my sight.
I handed him his phone calmly, and he took it without looking at me. There was a moment of silence between us before he turned his head back outside, his attention focused on the world before him, and took a drag of his cigarette. I felt an urge to ask him if he wanted to talk about it, but I knew Bas was a private person when it came to his emotional matters. So I decided to remain silent and give him space.
As I stood beside him, the world outside suddenly seemed quieter, more peaceful. The sun cast warm rays inside, embracing us, while the sounds of the city faded into a soft murmur in the background. Somehow, I felt more connected to Bas, as if we were sharing a moment of shared tranquility and contemplation amidst the chaos of life.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I finally asked, my voice soft and cautious, like a breeze sweeping through the room.
He shook his head, a barely perceptible motion, and his gaze remained fixed on the distance. He pulled out a second cigarette from his pack and lit it, a sign that he was truly stressed.
"Tell me about your date then," I tried, a smile on my lips in an attempt to bring lightness to the heavy atmosphere.
Bas sighed deeply, his breath mingling with the smoke of his cigarette. "Okay, fine," he finally agreed, his voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. He leaned back, his eyes still focused on the outside world, and began to speak.
"I don't have a good relationship with my parents," Bas began, his voice heavy with the emotional baggage he carried. His words floated like soft echoes through the room, filled with the pain of unspoken desires and misunderstood feelings. "You probably noticed from that phone call that my mother struggles with the fact that I'm gay." He paused for a moment, as if struggling to find the right words, and a sigh escaped his lips. "She also never agreed with my choice to become a musician," he continued.
I felt a wave of empathy and understanding for Bas. His pain was palpable as he shared his story, his eyes focused on the distant horizon outside the window, as if searching for answers he couldn't find within.
"Why did you give me your mother's number?" I eventually asked, curious about his motivations. "I could have contacted another real estate agency."
Bas finally looked back at me, his gaze penetrating and determined. "My mother is the best in her field, and her agency has a stellar reputation," he explained. "And I only want the best for you." With a leap from the windowsill, he stood back on his feet.

Bas continued, his voice imbued with a mixture of sadness and determination. "I'm the youngest of three children," he began. "And I've always been the black sheep of the family." His words were soaked with a deep, long-held pain, and I felt a wave of compassion wash over me as I listened to him. "My mother wanted me to follow in my brother and sister's footsteps and become a real estate agent," he continued. "But I have zero interest in that career. Can you imagine me in one of those fancy suits trying to sell houses? I don't think so."
He returned to the kitchen counter and took a seat on a stool. "Should the minced meat go in the bell peppers?" I nodded understandingly. "You made the right choice by standing up for yourself," I said as I sat down next to him at his kitchen counter. Together, we filled the bell peppers with the minced meat. "You deserve to be accepted for who you are, Bas. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
He nodded gratefully for my words, a smile of gratitude playing on his lips as he filled the peppers. The atmosphere between us became lighter, and I was glad to see Bas feeling a bit better.
"So you're not going to tell me about your date?" I teased him to momentarily forget the heaviness of the previous conversation.
He laughed, a warm sound that filled the room with lightness and joy. "No," he replied with a twinkle in his eyes. "I'm not going to spill the beans to you this time."

That afternoon, I decided to pay a visit to Simone and Gordon. Gordon opened the door with a wide smile, always ready to crack a joke. "I already warned Bill and Tom that you're here," he said with a wink. I couldn't help but laugh as I walked in, knowing that I had already texted Bill to let him know where I was.
Once inside, I immediately offered to help Simone with some household chores, which she welcomed with open arms. I always enjoyed lending them a hand, and Simone greatly appreciated my help. Together, we worked through the tasks, chatting and laughing as we went along.
Suddenly, the sound of my phone interrupted the peaceful atmosphere. My heart skipped a beat when I saw that Charlotte was calling back. A wave of tension washed over me as I wondered what she had to say. With a quick glance at Simone, who was busy in the kitchen, I answered the call and brought the phone to my ear.