Epilogue
As the plane taxied to a halt at El Prat airport in Barcelona, -I did what most of the other passengers were doing: broke the rules. I turned on my smartphone before the plane had stopped and waited until it found the local mobile network.
There was a new text message, which was a very pleasant surprise.
Marc has arrived. Just had his first day at home. Dying to meet his godfather. Love from us both.
Risking a telling-off from one of the hostesses, I answered immediately:
I know it’s after 10 at night now, but godfather can’t wait to meet godson. But I don’t know address.
xxxx
Three quarters of an hour later the taxi drew up in front of a building in the Gràcia neighborhood. I unloaded my suitcase and rang the doorbell. A voice on the intercom said “Samuel?” That confirmed, the door opened with a loud buzz.
I went up the stairs with an unfamiliar feeling of excitement I couldn’t quite explain.
Meritxell, smiling proudly, was waiting for me at the door. I hugged her and we went inside. I was slightly shocked by the dirty clothes piled on a chair, the dishes in the sink and the window with its crooked broken blind. On my next visit I would start tidying everything up . . .
“He’s just woken up. Come and see . . .”
I leaned over the cradle and stared at the tiny boy, who was just four days old. I’d read somewhere that newborn babies can’t see or smile, but I had the impression that he was happy to see me.
I took his little hand and he yawned, slightly moving his head, which was covered with a fine fuzz of dark hair.
“He likes you,” said Meritxell. “One of my colleagues was here earlier, and Marc cried every time she touched him.”
“Do you really think he likes me?”
“Yes—babies are little Buddhas, and they know lots of things. Marc already knows you’ll be important in his life.”
I put on a serious face, but really I was trying to hide my emotion.
“I’m the godfather, so I can demand to see him every day if I want. I’ve accepted my responsibility for his upbringing.”
“You can come whenever you want. Do you want to hold him?”
Overcoming my fear that I might inadvertently hurt this little creature, I put one hand under his back, which was no bigger than a book, supported his round head with the other hand and held him close to my chest. He made a guttural sound and settled into my arms.
“You’re really good at this. You look as if you’ve been picking up babies all your life. I’m not drinking but do you want a glass of wine?”
I accepted without taking my eyes off the baby. As Meritxell opened a bottle of red, I joked: “I don’t know who his biological father is, but I can tell you that Marc doesn’t look like him. He looks like his godfather.”
“If you say so.”
She poured me a glass of wine and sat down opposite me. She seemed surprised to see that the baby was so relaxed with someone he’d only just met. I admiringly thought that, four days after becoming a mother, Meritxell hadn’t lost a single iota of her effortless beauty.
“Are you serious about coming every day?”
“If you don’t mind of course . . .”
“I’d love you to come.” Her eyes were shining. “Marc would too. I was only wondering if it might be too much for you.”
“Don’t worry about me. The summer’s long and I don’t have to go back to work till September. My only fear is that I might fall in love with you.”
Meritxell flashed me an impish smile. “If that happened, it would be very strange to start a relationship with someone who has a newborn son when you’re not the father.”
“Nothing’s perfect, as I’ve recently discovered. I may not have fathered Marc, but it doesn’t mean I can’t love him as if he were my own son.”
She frowned as if she thought I was just fooling around. She took my glass of wine, had a sip and then said, “I don’t know what you’ve been up to in Japan, but you’re like a new man.”
“I hope I haven’t changed for the worse.”
“On the contrary—you’re not so uptight. I knew it! You really needed to do that trip.”
“Maybe, but what I learned there I could just have easily learned here.”
“What did you learn?”
“That it’s foolish to look far away for what you already have close by—and that things never turn out the way you want. That nothing is perfect and nothing lasts forever. That everything changes—like Marc. While I’m holding him, we can’t see it, but he’s growing and already discovering the world.”
Meritxell leaned forward to stroke my cheek and then asked: “If everything is changing . . . then where are we now?”
“In a place where everything is possible.”