by Thessa Lim
He might’ve been waiting for me to do it . . . the breakup . . . Shit! God, when will I stop thinking about this?
Her second sake arrived, and she gulped it down. Whoa! Numb, not dumb.
She needed to walk out the restaurant by herself and at least get a taxi.
After finishing dessert and a fourth sake, Zara opted to walk back to her condo on the other side of Ayala Avenue, which was five blocks away. Late in the night, when the streets were empty and people were not fighting their way into public utility vehicles, the streets of Makati could pass for wistful.
As she walked along Paseo de Roxas leisurely, silently cursing the dark sky and the romantic lights from buildings and street posts, her mobile rang. She stopped in her tracks and reached into her handbag.
“Please let it be someone who wants to go out for a drink. Darn!” She frowned when she saw the caller appear as “Unknown.”
She hesitated; she had received a couple of calls from telemarketers that week. She answered the call and swaggered forward. “Hello?”
“Zara, where are you? I can hear cars.” Jake. His voice was the familiar baritone that used to speak to her every night before she went to bed. Well, almost every night.
She stopped in her tracks again, and her body stiffened.
Why does he have to call now?
“I’m out,” she blurted out.
“Who are you with?”
“Myself.”
There was a pause. “Have you been drinking? Your voice sounds funny . . . How are you getting home?”
“I’m walking.”
A sigh. “Can you send me a text message when you get home then?”
“No, I’ll be too drunk by then.” She snorted.
“What time do you think you’ll be home?”
Zara hung up the phone. She stared at it for a while before it rang again. She answered the call.
“What did you do that for?” he demanded.
“Stop it! Stop acting like I answer to you.”
“I just wanted to make sure you’re all right.” His voice softened.
“If that were true, you’d have called me the evening after you left me at a goddamn island that was three hours away from the goddamn city.” She choked up and began to sob.
She walked to a nearby lamppost and leaned on it for support. A couple passing by glanced at her.
“Zara, I’m sorry. It was difficult for me to stay . . . You’ve always taken care of yourself. I thought you’d be fine then.”
“I know you’re accustomed to me looking after myself, but I’m also human, Jake. We just broke up then . . . Damn you.” She sank down to the ground and sat on her ankles. “If you called just to find out if I’m okay, I’m okay, okay? If that’s all, then stop calling me.”
“I . . . I just thought . . . Okay. Goodbye, Zara. Take care.”
She hung up on him before he could on her. She waited a while for the mobile to ring again, but it did not anymore.
She started walking toward the condo again. She muttered curses to herself for a minute and then breathed deeply, trying to calm herself down. She blinked again and again until she felt that the tears had all receded. Taking out her powder case, she primped her face up, trying to cover the red blotches on her skin. Laine knew she was broken, but Zara did not want to look like how she felt inside.
CHAPTER NINE
Jazmine and the Shoulder
Jazmine stepped into the bedroom of her apartment. She stared at the crib, where only a green stuffed dinosaur lay, and her insides clenched for the fifth time that day.
The first time her insides churned was when she brought Liam to the Palma residence at the San Antonio Village. It was just as she recalled: the white grill fence, the yard wide enough for a toddler to run around in, and the bisque country-style bungalow house. A grey Lexus was parked on two strips of cement surrounded by patches of green just at the back of the gate.
She was greeted by Sitti, the household help, who squealed in delight when she saw Liam. Jazmine refused to let her carry Liam though, saying that the baby just woke up from a nap and might cry. It was silly—Sitti would be helping Fiona in caring for him—but Jazmine wanted to hold her son until she had to leave. The maid told her to wait in the living room, and Jazmine turned her attention to Liam to settle her nerves. This room had always made her feel small.
A few minutes later, Dennis and Fiona came out of their bedroom and greeted the visitors. Jazmine sighed in relief when she did not seem out of place in jeans and a black tee, as the couple donned chino shorts and polo shirts. While his wife talked about the arrangements made for Liam’s visit, Dennis would open his mouth once in a while as if to say something but would then close it.
The second time her stomach clenched was when Jazmine saw the pristine room that her son would sleep in. A wooden crib, with matching jungle-themed beddings and bumpers, was at one corner of the room. On the other side, on the floor lay a Parklon playmat and a Skip Hop play gym. An immaculate changing table, with a built-in organizer made of at least a dozen compartments, stood by the window. Fresh newborn clothes and towels were stacked up on the bottom shelves of a cabinet, while packs of diapers and wipes filled the upper racks. Jazmine swallowed. There was more in this bedroom than there had ever been in the home Jazmine had put together for Liam. Not even when she herself had first prepared for his birth.
The third time was when she left her son in the arms of his grandmother. At first, he kicked his little feet and squirmed, stretching his white booties. But when Fiona bounced him up and down and tickled him on the side, he let out a smile. He did not even cry for Jazmine. He was perfectly fine. And so she cried once she stepped out of the house’s gate.
The fourth time was when she had gone to the office to meet with HR and make sure she had the proper documents for her medical claims. She was scheduled to go back to work in a week. She had pumped her milk in the copy room and then read the emails in her inbox, unopened for the last seven weeks, but her mind kept wandering to her son.
Is he okay? Are they attending to him? I told them he would cry every two hours for milk—will they listen for every sound that comes from his crib?
Jazmine had wanted to call Fiona right then but stopped herself.
She must know. She was a mother once too. Calm down. You’re adjusting to being away from him, that’s all. This is natural. This nagging feeling will go away sooner or later.
Now, in the early hours of the night, as she stood inside the empty bedroom of her apartment, all she could hear were the distant noises from the street outside and the faint croaks of a frog. And the heavy thoughts in her head.
C’mon! You can sleep peacefully tonight. Make the most of it. Liam is coming home tomorrow, and you’ll be drowning in household chores again. You’ve got to catch up on the Unilab paperwork anyway.
She argued with herself over and over again, but all she really wanted to do was go to San Antonio and pick Liam up that very minute.
The next morning, Jazmine woke up with a start. Her eyes darted to the crib. The puny dinosaur still stared at the tan wall.
That crib looks smaller than it used to be.
She glanced at the wall clock.
Seven o’clock. Got to get to the office.
She was supposed to meet with Grace, her department manager, to discuss the plan on a joint project with Unilab.
There was a party at the office. It was the birthday of Michelle, one of the department’s program facilitators whom Laine worked with.
Jazmine worked in the resource development of the health and nutrition segment of the Ganoop Children Foundation, while Laine handled education and youth empowerment.
I miss this. Being outside the house. Not having to be on my toes the entire time, waiting for somebody to cry.
After catching up with several other people, however, Jazmine found herself talking about Liam rather than asking people what had transpired in the office in the past seven weeks.
&
nbsp; Suddenly Jazmine’s mobile rang, and Zara’s name appeared on the screen. Jazmine picked up, expecting the call. Zara had offered to drive her to the Palma residence to collect Liam that day.
“I’ll be there at twelve,” Zara announced. “I’ll call you when I’m almost there.”
“I should only be an hour more anyway. Thanks, Zara. I just . . . I just need the moral support this time . . . after seeing all the nice things Liam gets at their home . . .”
“Not a problem, Jaz. Is Laine coming with us?”
“Yeah, she said she will.”
Zara hesitated. “Is Anne up for a lunch trip too?”
Jazmine sighed. “She called me up the other day and asked if I was going through with this. I said yes, and she scolded me again.”
“Okay . . .”
“So I didn’t ask her. She’ll just keep discouraging me about this, Zara.”
“You’re right. It’ll just be us then. Let’s not fret. We’re just fetching Liam. No biggie.”
Zara parked the car outside the Palma house. The Toyota Corolla gave a little shudder as the engine died.
“Nice house. Not bad,” Zara commented. “Quiet neighborhood.”
Jazmine looked over her shoulders and scanned the area. Gated houses lined the street on both sides. Only a black Honda Civic and a grey Volvo were parked outside the neighboring houses—a different sight compared to the previous morning, when cars waited on the driveways for their turn to leave.
“This is the one, right, Jaz?” Laine asked, peering outside the window.
“Yes.” Jazmine sighed. “Just checking if Braden’s car is around.”
Before the girls could berate her, Jazmine stepped out of the vehicle. She rang the buzzer. A few moments later, Sitti walked out of the house and opened the gate.
“Hi. I’m here to pick Liam up,” Jazmine announced.
“Come in, Ate. We thought you’d arrive later.” Sitti motioned her toward the door.
When Jazmine entered the house, Fiona just walked out of Liam’s room. Jazmine blinked twice. Fiona wore a plain V-neck shirt and flannel shorts. And was without any makeup.
“Hi, Tita.” Jazmine smiled and headed in her direction. “I’ll be getting Liam now. Thank you so much for—”
“Hi, Jazmine.” Fiona smiled and stepped in front of her. “Liam is still sleeping. Maybe you can get him a bit later?”
Jazmine’s eyebrows furrowed.
“Oh, that’s fine, Tita. I’ll just pick him up and go,” Jazmine insisted, making another move toward the room.
This time, Fiona held her by the arm and patted it. “They say it’s not good to wake up a sleeping baby.”
Jazmine regarded the hand on her elbow and inched her arm back.
“He’ll be fine, Tita.” Jazmine explained, “My friends are waiting for me in a car outside, and so I need to get him now.”
Fiona glanced at Sitti, who was behind Jazmine.
Sitti said, “Yes, ma’am. There’s a car waiting outside.”
Jazmine frowned.
Why is she questioning what I just said?
Fiona smiled briefly at Jazmine. “Do you want to invite your friends in? They can have some refreshments first.”
Jazmine reined back a glare and instead shook her head. “Thank you, but I can’t do that. My friends can’t stay long. They need to go back to work.”
Before Fiona could say anything more, Jazmine sidestepped her and went to the door. When she entered, she doubled back. Her son lay on a pale blue muslin crib sheet, while he wore a navy blue cotton onesie.
He looks peaceful . . . like in a Mothercare ad.
She shook her head, reached inside the crib, and lifted her son. He began to stir. She foresaw that a crying fit was about to come, and so she grabbed the diaper bag she had left behind with him.
Have they packed everything in this bag already? Oh, just leave already.
Her footsteps tapped on the diamond-patterned tiles of the hallway as she hurried out. When she passed by the living room, she spied Fiona sitting on the couch and staring at her hands. Jazmine stopped in her tracks. Right then, Liam woke up and whimpered.
“Tita, thank you for taking care of Liam,” Jazmine acknowledged the other woman.
Fiona looked up and nodded. “Do you want to stay for lunch or merienda? Can you and Liam go home later?”
Jazmine shook her head and forced a chuckle. “I really can’t. My friends are driving us home.”
Fiona nodded yet again. “I-I’ll see you again next week?”
“Yes,” Jazmine agreed. “I’ll let you know which day is good?”
Fiona held up a hand and put in, “Wait. I bought him a breathable pillow. And some new sheets. Maybe you should take those home with you.” Fiona stood up.
“It’s okay, Tita. Actually . . . he doesn’t need a pillow just yet,” Jazmine contended. “And he has bedsheets at home. Three sets should be enough.”
The two women stared at each other for a while. Then Liam began to cry.
“Sure, of course.” Fiona threw up her hands. “I recorded his feeding times—just as you requested. The notebook should be in that bag.”
“Thank you.” Jazmine smiled and waved. “Goodbye.”
Fiona offered, “I can take care of him for three days if you need the break.”
Without turning around, Jazmine replied, “I think two days is just fine, Tita. It’s more than enough. Thank you again.”
Once Jazmine got into the car, she opened the buttons of her shirt and let her son nurse.
“Did you get all his things?” Zara turned on the ignition.
Without paying heed to Zara’s question and Laine, who shushed Liam, Jazmine held her son closer and showered kisses on his hair, forehead, and cheeks.
“Mommy’s here. Mommy’s here,” she whispered into his ear.
Later that night, after putting Liam back to sleep, the three girls had dinner at Jazmine’s apartment.
“Jaz, your creepy neighbor, Mr. Reyes, was looking at us when we walked in here tonight,” Zara declared with a shudder.
“What? Oh, him? Don’t mind him,” Jazmine replied. “He’s just weird—that’s all.”
“Still . . .” Zara shot a look at the direction of the other house.
“Did you get enough sleep last night?” Laine peered at Jazmine.
“Yes.” Jazmine blew out a breath. “I should pull an all-nighter tonight and play with Liam. Not a dull moment.”
Zara and Laine looked at each other.
“Jaz, it’s okay to rest,” Laine started. “Everybody needs to rest.”
“It’s just that . . . I feel bad, having left him with somebody else—” Jazmine buried her face in her hands. “You’re . . . you’re right, of course. I’m being dramatic.” She looked up. “I’m a little upset with Tita. I gave her instructions on how often Liam should be fed. But I see that she’s fed him more than twenty-five ounces yesterday.”
Laine laid a hand on Jazmine’s. “Jaz, I know you’re very particular about his milk. And nutrition and stuff. But now, you can’t control everything.”
“Try talking to Tita,” Zara suggested. “It’s their first two days with him. Maybe they panicked each time he cried?”
Jazmine nodded and stared down at her food. “Yeah, you’re right. You’re right.”
When Jazmine stayed quiet, Laine placed her hand on top of Zara’s.
“I should probably ask you if you’ve been having enough sleep too?” Laine grinned sheepishly at her.
Zara stiffened for a second but then covered Laine’s hand with the other.
“Thanks. I’ll come around soon enough. I’m still quite depressed. I just need to grieve, that’s all.” Zara started tearing up but shook her head and blinked back the tears.
Jazmine looked up and squeezed Zara on the arm. “We’re here for you.” Jazmine smiled at her. “Do you want to get some ice cream?”
Zara laughed, and a tear fell from her eyes. “No need fo
r ice cream.” She cleared her throat. “But . . . I’m not the one with the big news.” She wiggled her eyebrows at Laine, but her smile did not reach her eyes.
Laine’s mouth opened in shock.
Jazmine laughed. “I did get the feeling that something happened when you went home and a guy was mentioned.”
“She hasn’t told me the story yet, but she blushes every time she talks about it . . . and she refers to it as ‘the weekend.’” Zara grinned while gesturing with air quotes.
“Laine, I never thought you’d have it in you,” Jazmine kidded her friend.
Laine blushed. “We made out. Or that’s what I think it is.”
“Please elaborate.”
“We kissed. He has the softest and . . . yummiest lips,” Laine breathed dreamily. “I can’t tell! It’s just too private!”
They prodded her on until she gave in and told them what had happened with Tony.
Zara asked, “What’s he up to now?”
“He texts me every day, but I’m not kidding myself. I still know too little about the grown-up Tony, and he lives all the way in the U.S.”
“If he’s as intense a guy as he sounds, I don’t think that’ll stop him,” Jazmine mused.
“I don’t mind if he doesn’t make anything out of it. I’m actually scared about feeling this heady and attracted toward him. I don’t feel like myself.”
“You mean not like a Goody Two-Shoes?” Jazmine teased.
“Our Laine is growing up.” Zara grinned.
Jazmine nodded at Zara and chuckled. “Amen to that.”
CHAPTER TEN
Zara and the Big Ladder
Zara checked the desk across hers. The clock showed ten o’clock, but the desk was still empty. She frowned and checked her mobile if Gaea, her senior writer, had left any messages. They were supposed to turn in a main feature of the magazine to their manager by noon. Their editor in chief, Don, is known to raise his voice at delinquents whatever the size of the audience.
