Page 70 of What Happens in Amsterdam

“I was driving.” That’s all she says—curt, to the point. “Nice to see you again.”

“You, too.” I bite the inside of my cheek, unsure how to navigate this strangeness. I was not prepared to be alone in the apartment with my mother-in-law today—or ever. “Can I take your jacket, or get you anything to drink?”

It doesn’t escape my notice that she seems a little stiff, a little wary, even though this is where she lived for much of her life. I wonder if she’s looking for signs that I’ve changed anything, some obvious American influence.

“No, thank you,” she says. “You said there was an issue with the pipes?”

I grimace. “Over in the bathroom. I was going to call a plumber, but I’m afraid I haven’t had much luck.”

“Mind if I take a look?”

I’m only slightly embarrassed by the mess of products on the counter. Without giving them a second glance, she kneels on the floor, inspecting the pipes beneath the sink.

“Ah, this shouldn’t be too bad,” she says. “It’ll just take two of us.”

There’s some plumber’s putty in storage, it turns out, because this isn’t the first time this has happened. We dive in with latex gloves, and though we’ll eventually have to get a professional to replace the pipe, this fix will hold for now.

And this time, when I offer her some tea, she says yes.

I’ve watched Wouter do this dozens of times now, but I’m still a little shaky with the tea infuser.Thee, reads the Post-it note stuck to the pot—I rolled my eyes when I saw that one.

Anneke picks one up that readskeukenhanddoek, and I think I catch her smiling as she places it back on the kitchen towel. “You seem to have really made yourself comfortable,” she says after watching me move about the kitchen, setting two mugs down in front of us, a plate of cookies in the center of the table. It’s not an admonition or judgment. Just a fact.

“I have. It’s an easy place to feel at home.”

“I remember Wouter and Roos used to love that window nook over there.” She nods toward it. “One day they were boat captains, and the dogs or birds they saw down below were sea creatures. The next, it was a spaceship, and they were fighting aliens. There was never any arguing. No tears. Sometimes we couldn’t believe they got along that well.”

“They’ve always been close?” I ask, and she nods. “They’re so lucky. I’m the same way with my sister, but—” I break off, unsure how personal I want to get with her.

“It’s hard, being away from your family.” She dips a biscuit into the tea and takes a small bite. “I studied in America when I was in school, too. Michigan—not quite as glamorous as LA.”

“He was disappointed that we weren’t constantly passing celebrities on the street. The one time we did see someone, it was an actor he’d never heard of, and he was so upset with himself. But he was such a sweetheart back then,” I say, trying to think how a parent would like their kid to be described. “So polite, so easy to get along with. I mean—he’s still all those things. We loved having him.”

“I’m sure you did.”

At first I don’t realize it’s a joke because she says it in such anonchalant way—but then her expression cracks, allowing a smile through. I let myself laugh along with her.

“I adored his art,” I continue, hoping this isn’t a touchy subject. “He could capture people’s expressions so beautifully.”

Anneke goes quiet for a few moments, and I’m worried I’ve said too much. “You probably know we weren’t very supportive about him studying it,” she says. “I knew how much he liked it, but I worried so much. Sometimes I wonder—what if we hadn’t pushed him as hard? Especially when his father got sick, I could tell he struggled to stay on top of his studies.” That vision makes me ache, Wouter the college student up late cramming for a test while his father’s future seemed so delicate. “Then there was all the time he spent taking care of his father, and after he passed…he thought he still needed to take care of the rest of us. Not that we wanted him to ignore us, of course, but Roos is plenty self-sufficient. And as for me”—she motions with her head toward the bathroom—“I picked up some skills from my husband as well.”

“He wants to be needed,” I say, and Anneke gives me a solemn nod.

What she said burrows deep in my heart as a crucial piece of Wouter suddenly becomes clear. He wants so badly to be needed by his family because he’s afraid to want something just for himself.

Anneke’s gaze flicks over to my hand. Without realizing it, I’ve been fiddling with the ring.

“I have to admit, I was a little concerned when he first told us you were getting married. But I was young and in love once, too. I can see how much you care for him, Dani, and I’m very glad you found him again.” She reaches across the table, her hand covering mine. “And I hope we can keep getting to know each other, too.”

The words nearly get caught in my throat. “Of course.”

The guilt is an ugly, bitter thing. I give Anneke a tight smile, not unlike when Roos asked for confirmation of my feelings for herbrother. Even if it took Anneke a little longer to warm up to me, the conclusion is the same: they both believe I love Wouter.

Wouter’s devotion to his family is something I’ve grown to admire. He was willing to do anything to keep this place that holds his dearest memories—even lie, which I know must be very nearly killing him. All because he wants them to see that he’s happy.

And he is, isn’t he? He certainly was last night.

Maybe this is working better than we ever planned.

---