‘Good afternoon. May we speak to Mr Hendrix please?’ Zachary asks the older lady behind the bar.
‘Ha!’ She laughs shortly. ‘Mr Hendrix. You must be new around here. I’m Maya, Hendrix’s mother. And you may call him Hendrix.’ She holds out a hand for the lovely young man standing before her.
‘It’s lovely to meet you. I’m Zachary, I’ve met him a few times this week.’
‘Lovely to meet you, Zachary.’ Maya says warmly, ‘I will go out back and let Hendrix know someone is here to see him. Today is a bottling day and last orders for Christmas shipping so they’ll be very busy out back.’
‘Thank you.’ Zachary walks back to the table where his siblings are.
A little less than five minutes, Hendrix is out front, smiling widely when he sees Zachary but his steps falters and slows as he walks towards his table because of the other faces staring back at him. He turned back to look at his mother who also has that quizzical look on her face.
‘Hello Zachary.’
Zachary gets to his feet, ‘hello sir. Sorry to drop in on you like this, I came with my siblings because we have some questions for you.’
Hendrix folds his hands looking from one face to the other looking back at him. This damn table they opted for; every time Zachary came into the pub, he always sat at this exact table. ‘I’m listening.’
‘Is there somewhere private we can talk?’ Astor asks.
When Hendrix looks at her, really looks at her, his skin prickles and the hairs stand.
‘There’s no one in the pub we can do it here.’
Hendrix turns to his mother at the bar, ‘Ma, can you give us a minute?’
‘Of course.’ Maya walks out back and shuts the door to the kitchen making sure they are not disturbed.
‘I’m all ears.’ Hendrix leaned against the table next to them.’
‘Do you still love our mother?’ Zoya asks and the other three turn to look at her wide eyed. They planned to broach the subject easy not dive right in.
‘Who is your mother?’
‘Dude really?’ Arthur rolls his eyes then nods at Astor.
Hendrix looks from one face to the other of the four staring back at him, eyes so familiar, her high cheekbones and full lips; something in his heart slots into place. ‘Ife is your mother?’
‘And you’re our father.’
‘What?’ He had to hold on to the table he leaned against for fear he’d be knocked off his feet.
‘Not all four of us.’ Zachary says.
‘Just me and Arthur.’ Astor motions to her brother.
‘I can’t have children.’
‘Errr we think you can.’ Zoya says. ‘Mummy says they are yours, she told us in a letter.’
‘Where is your mother?’
‘We don’t know. We’re simply trying to piece this thing together, there’s more but it’s not ours to tell, this part is our part.’
‘I cannot have children.’ Hendrix repeats.
‘We beg to differ.’ Zack says.
‘Hang on. Do not move.’ Hendrix takes the steps two at a time up to the office. The first thing he does is reach for his mobile, and dials his ex-wife’s number. ‘Becca, I need you to be honest with me.’
‘Hendrix is everything okay?’
‘Is it you or me that cannot have children?’
‘What!?’
‘Am I the problem or were you? We took all those tests, but I never paid attention to the results because I never could understand them. But please tell me the truth.’ His mind is threatening to explode with the scream it is holding inside.
‘It was me.’ Becca says quietly; the secret she left her marriage with. They’d grown apart because she so desperately wanted children and couldn’t have any, but she made him believe it was all him. ‘Hendrix I’m sorry.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I didn’t want to lose you.’
‘Becca…’ good God when did his life become an episode of a soap opera.
‘I am so sorry.’
‘I have to go.’ He hangs up, paces a few steps in his office straddling between anger and hurt, she knew, she knew all these years that they had children and never bothered to tell him. He wants to scream.
The two sets of twins are talking among themselves when Hendrix walks back down the stairs, returning to them.
‘Has the news sunk in?’
‘No.’ Hendrix answers Astor’s question, his own daughter, he sees it now. She looks exactly like her mother did all those years ago when she blew into his life like a whirlwind. All of them have something of her, but especially Astrid and Zachary.
‘Do you still love our mother?’
‘I doubt he stopped.’ Arthur is the one to answer that question.
Hendrix smiles.
‘We know you’re mad at her.’ Zoya says, ‘we know this is a lot to take on board so if you want us to leave, we will.’
‘I don’t want you to leave.’ Hendrix says, his tone full of emotion. ‘I don’t want you to leave. I didn’t think I could have children, so I went up to call my ex-wife to find out if the problem was me or her, she just admitted it was her all along and all this time I’ve had children I’ve never met. And you’re all grown up.’ He places a hand on his heart as if to protect it from bursting, his eyes misting. He has children. And with her.
‘So, you are mad at her.’ Arthur says.
‘I’m a lot of things. I’m hurt too and I love your mother, I never stopped. I was married for ten years but for the first ten years after she left, I kept thinking she would come back to me, to us, to make a life together. I had to move on, but I am still where she left me. I made a life here because if she ever went looking for me she would know where to find me, I never moved, never left. I have been here all my life and I know now its because I was waiting for her. I still am. My bestselling batch of whisky is named after her. We probably conceived you on one of these tables.’
‘TMI.’ Zachary says.
‘Sorry.’ Hendrix buries his face behind his hand for a spell whilst everything catches up to him. ‘You have a grandmother. Would you like to meet her?’
‘Of course.’
Hendrix goes out back to talk to his mother and then returns to the pub with her where introductions are made, and hugs exchanged. There is such happiness in her eyes no matter her feelings towards Ife, and she had loathed her since she ended things with her son, but this… this is everything. His children. Their children. Her grandchildren.