The Foreigner

Chapter 18

The day did not start very well. Early in the morning I have to solve problems with my publisher. Still in my pajamas, I walk back and forth in the middle of the room with the cordless phone in hand.

The doorbell rings. I'll see who it is.

-Heidi? -My smile doesn't hide the satisfaction of seeing her. She comes in. -I need to hang up now. Later I return - I dispatch the staff to talk to her.

Her expression is not very good. -What are you doing here so early? -I ask. She smiles slightly. Then suddenly he holds me tight. I am surprised, but I correspond with the same intensity. -What's it? It's all right?

-Can I stay here with you?

-Of course. -She goes to the couch. -Already had breakfast?

-Already.

-Did something happen? I mean, something other than what happened last time I was at your house? -She nods positively as I set the coffee to make. -I'm going to change clothes and then we talk.

When I return to the room with the cup of coffee in hand, Heidi is just as I left her, still, quiet. The image bothers me because she is not like that.

-Are you going to be silent all day? -I take a sip of coffee.

-Are you still writing that story? The one you showed me? -Unexpectedly she asks me.

-Yes. Do you want to see it?

-Yes I want.

We climbed the stairs to my room. As I open my notebook she sits on the bed. I read to her.

-Yeah. The story has improved a lot. She rests her hands on the bed and has her legs crossed.

-It was you who helped me. -She smiles.

-And how is your daughter, Mr. Whitman?

-She is very happy. Especially now, that I've made up with my son-in-law. I get up and lean against the desk with my arms crossed and looking at her.

-It's good the things are going well for you. -She says this without any excitement, taking off her boots. He takes a packet of pot and paper from his pocket.

-You don't mind me smoking here, do you?

-Not. I do not care. -The only thing I care about right now is what's happening to her.

She prepares, lights, starts smoking, cross-legged on the bed.

I approach and sit beside her. -Still shaken by that story of your father?

-Too.

-What else disturbs you?

She sighs. -I have to go back to Amsterdam.

-What? -I almost choke on the sudden news. -Why?

-My mother is very sick and needs me.

-I'm so sorry. And when are you going?

-I still do not know. The fastest possible.

-And what about the life you have here? What are you going to do? About your house? About your work?

-I'll sell the house for the price I can get. -And the same thing for the studio.

-And your father? How is he reacting to all of this?

Heidi shakes her head and scowls. -He asked me not to tell her what I saw so as not to aggravate her health. -But I wouldn't really count, regardless of the disease.

-Is her case very serious?

-Yes. It is a lung cancer.

-Wow! It must be hard for you, isn't it?

-Yes it is. Imagine losing the only person who truly loves you, who cares about you.

-I know what you are going through. - You can count on me. For whatever you need.

-Thank you very much, Mr. Whitman. I think the best thing that happened to me here was meeting you.

-I will miss you. -And ... I never thought I'd say that, but ... I'll miss the loud sound coming from your house. -She laughs.