Spring Into Love

by Chantel Rhondeau

  “Oh, really?” Doris turns to Romeo. “I told you I wanted to go somewhere else.”

  He blanches, if that’s possible for a deliciously tan man to do. “Let’s hear what the waitress has to say before you go ballistic.”

  Yeah, like Klingon ballistic. I slide a sticky caramelized smile her direction, courtesy of the waitress.

  “Actually, it’s the deep fried fatty pork belly. I’m afraid we’re out of it.”

  “Oh, wonderful,” Doris chips in before Romeo can answer. “I would have been utterly disgusted watching you eat that dirty pig.”

  She turns to me, the waitress. “Can you recommend a replacement? Something vegan?”

  “Actually yes, may I suggest the mixed greens, water spinach, Chinese broccoli, straw mushrooms, with tofu? We’ll remove the spicy sausage garnish and dried shrimp paste, of course.”

  Doris clasps her hands. “That will be perfect.”

  I hardly dare to glance at Romeo. I can feel the waves of murderous hatred oozing from his pores. Instead, I take Doris’ water glass to the ice machine and fill it.

  Genie reappears at my side with the ice tea pitcher.

  “Everything’s taken care of,” I tell her. “They’ll take the vegetable delight, hold the sausage and shrimp paste.” I hand her the glass of ice. “For Bleachy Blonde.”

  Genie narrows her eyes. “I’m going to slip lard into her food.”

  “Do it, it’ll make her come back for more. Good for business.”

  I saunter back to the kitchen and correct the order slips.

  “Lechón crisis averted.” I wink at Carlos.

  He winks back. “Go get them, tigress. I was peeking and you’ve got one steamed man out there. What’s he doing with Bike Thin Barbie?”

  “Kuya?” I pat his arm. “Let’s forget about him. He’s no longer our Romeo. He’s a big movie star now.”

  “I’m sorry. I know you had a crush on him. But hey, you think this means I can take you to Julia’s wedding?”

  “Aren’t you taking Choco?” I grab a napkin and wipe the sweat off my face. The kitchen is hot, but stealing men from both of my sisters is not exactly how I envisioned my mental health break would turn out.

  He yells at Danny who’s returned with the pork belly, then wipes his hands on his apron. “Choco and I are good friends. She wants me to take you so you won’t feel so left out when Romeo shows up with Genie.”

  “I don’t believe this.” I slap the sides of my head. “I’m not a charity case. I don’t give a shit about Romeo. He and Genie can have a nice life. I’m going back to medical school in a few weeks.”

  I surprise myself with this announcement. Really? I am? But I forge on when I spot Danny, Victor, and Thomas, the assistant cooks and bus boys craning their necks. My father would love to hear this and it might mean getting my grounding sentence removed.

  “Yes,” I shout loudly enough to be heard over the sizzling oil and banging of pots and pans. “I have a special session set up with Dr. Chu, the anatomy professor. In exchange for helping him with his website and organizing all of his lectures, he’ll quiz me the rest of the summer and give me a passing grade.”

  Okay, this is not a lie. Dr. Chu has been emailing me. I just haven’t responded.

  “That’s great.” Carlos wraps his arms around me and kisses me on the cheek. “Our little Evie’s going to be a doctor. Mmwah!”

  “Okay, okay, get back to cooking.” I push out of his arms. “Let me get Mr. Dee his lechón.”

  Victor passes it to me. “Lechón kawali for Mr. Dee!”

  I grab it and turn, stopping face to chest with a rather angry man. Romeo’s nostrils steam and his mouth is pressed in a thin line. His muscles bulge and he resembles a raging cartoon bull.

  “Hey, no customers in the kitchen.” Carlos comes to the rescue.

  Romeo stares him down but doesn’t move. Not even when Carlos waves a cleaver at him.

  “That my lechón?” He makes a swipe for the plate.

  “Sorry, Mr. Dee’s. Talk to your server.” I swing my hips past him.

  He sticks to my side. “I did. She said you changed the order.”

  “It’s for your own good. Helped you score points with Bulimic Barbie. She thinks you’re a vegan hero.” I push the swinging door open and run into Mama.

  “Oh, there you are, Romeo,” Mama says. She’s focused on Romeo as if I don’t I even exist, so I keep walking.

  “How come you didn’t tell me your mother’s in the hospital?” My mother’s voice carries and stops me in my tracks.

  I’m afraid Mr. Dee’s lechón is getting cold, so I stick it under the warming lights and stalk Mama and Romeo back to the kare-kare side of the restaurant.

  “She’s doing better,” he answers. “They installed a stent and she should be coming home tomorrow.”

  “Oh, my,” Mama says. “And here I thought she wasn’t speaking to me. Will you let her know I’m praying for her?”

  Heart attack? Tita Elena had a heart attack? Was it the morning Romeo walked out on me? Oh, shit. I should have let him explain.

  “Of course, Tita Anna, the first person she asked for when she regained consciousness was you. Please visit. She doesn’t know why you haven’t stopped by yet.”

  “Let me go now. Which hospital?”

  “Mercy Hospital, I’ll call the nurse’s station and let them know you’re on your way.”

  I hear kissing sounds as they say farewell, so I beat my way back to the warming lights for Mr. Dee’s lechón.

  Gone. I gape around. Who took the lechón?

  “Genie!” I yell as I make my way through the patio. “Where’s Mr. Dee’s lechón?”

  “Mr. Dee left already.” She smirks, smacking her bubblegum. “The Sunshine bus showed up five minutes ago.”

  She points to Doris Not-A-Good-Day sitting at table fifteen with a plate of lechón in front of her. “I told her we were out of tofu. So sorry.”

  Romeo returns just in time for the Wrath of the Barbaric Barbie. She rises, Godzilla-like, with a loud shriek. In an epic display of female dominance, she picks up the plate of deep-fried lechón garnished with cilantro and lime and smashes it over Romeo’s head.

  Owie, Chihuahua!

  Chapter 16

  “Romeo, Romeo, wake up.” I wipe his face with a wet napkin while Choco sweeps up the broken plate and pork fragments.

  Papa, ever the man in charge, has removed Doris Make-My-Day from the premises. A group of teenage boys are laughing over the video they took and Genie is busy knocking smartphones with them to get the video and exchanging contact information or phone viruses or whatever kids exchange these days.

  “Romeo?” I hold an ice cube to his forehead where a lump is developing.

  He groans and swats my hand, then his eyes open, unfocused.

  Giggle. He’s definitely cute cross-eyed. But then, he’s cute whichever way I look. Swoon.

  “Where am I? What happened?” His eyelids flutter. “Am I hurt?”

  “You’ll be okay. You got hit by a flying pig.” I can’t help but smile at his confused expression.

  He gingerly touches his forehead and tries to sit.

  “Whoa, let me help.” I take full advantage of his incapacitated situation and swing his arm over my shoulder.

  Genie is still flirting with the boys, so the coast is clear. I help Romeo stagger behind the beaded curtains to my parents’ office.

  “Here, take a seat and I’ll get you an Aleve and a cup of water.” I guide him to my dad’s executive chair.

  “Sure.” He wipes his eyes and rubs his head. “Did Doris leave?”

  “Yeah, Papa escorted her out, but he didn’t call the police.”

  I open my dad’s locker and extract the painkiller then step outside to grab a glass of water. Now that Romeo’s awake I need to figure out how to apologize to him for ruining his date. Not that I didn’t enjoy every minute of it. But he must be mortified.

  Oh, and with his mother in t
he hospital, I feel even more guilty. He was probably driving her to the hospital and had no time to leave me a note. He even left me a bagel and coffee. I suck so bad.

  Romeo has his head in his hands when I return. The dazed look is gone, replaced by raised eyebrows and pursed lips.

  “Do you mind telling me why you messed around with my order?” He takes the pill from me and chases it with ice water.

  I slide onto the desk in front of him. “Mr. Dee, you know, the old guy. He loves our lechón. It’s the highlight of his week.”

  “You could have asked nicely. I would gladly give my lechón to Mr. Dee. You know that.” His voice is as polished as a schoolmaster’s and just as reasonable. It makes me feel even lower.

  “I was also jealous,” I stammer, knowing there’s no escape. Romeo has always gotten the truth out of me, oftentimes with a single penetrating stare.

  “Of Doris?” His voice exhibits surprise. “She’s my co-star.”

  “Then why were you kissing her? And don’t lie. I saw you with my very own eyes while I was looking for my nonexistent contact lenses in the dumpster.” Oh boy, why can’t I keep my mouth in control?

  He flaps his hands. “That was before I kissed you!”

  “Then why did you bring her here today, after you kissed me?”

  He rolls his eyes and juts his lower lip. “Breaking up with her, but looks like you and your sister did the job for me.”

  “Good riddance, but she’s probably one of many relationships you have.” I wiggle my fingers to emphasize ‘relationships.’

  “Why would you care? You hate me. You never want to see me again, and you were also supposed to text me about, you know.”

  “I haven’t taken the pill yet.” I watch him carefully to gauge his response.

  His expression is stony, but there’s a faint trace of, what? Not annoyance, but curiosity, or relief? In any case, his eyes open wider for a split second before resuming the focused scrutiny of me, the cornered rat.

  “No worries,” he says. “Just let me know, okay?”

  “Sure. I have to read the insert.”

  “Of course. That’s wise.”

  “I have seventy-two hours.”

  “No pressure.”

  “Well, I have to get back to work.” I swing my legs and jump off the desk.

  “Sure, and I’m still hungry, but I’ll pay the bill.” He reaches in his jeans for his wallet.

  “No, no. I ruined your meal. I’ll pay.”

  He shoves a couple of twenties into my hands. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “I’m not.” I push the money at him. A surge of anger swells in my chest. “Why are you so judgmental of me?”

  “Me? You’re the one calling me slimeball. Since when have I judged you?” He crosses his arms and leans back in the chair, looking up at me.

  “I’m sure you’re thinking it. I’m a failure, a dropout, probably slutty, and hysterical. Chubby, out of shape, and crazy, lots of crazy, incompetent waitress and I suck at being a sister and I’m a horrible daughter. Now I’m ridiculous.”

  He looks at me as if I’ve grown three heads and five pairs of tits.

  I can’t face him so I tear for the exit.

  A large hand clamps my shoulder. “Whoa, there, cookie. You can’t sling all that mud and run off.”

  “I’ve ruined our friendship too. You won’t ever forgive me for jumping to conclusions and blaming you when all you did was take your mother to the hospital.”

  “I forgive you, okay? Come here and give me a hug.” He opens his arms.

  How can I resist? He’s too good to be true. I fall into his arms and kiss him on the cheek. He smells like fried pork and his shirt is greasy, but I don’t mind at all. It’s comforting, reminds me of home.

  “You know none of those things you said about yourself are true, don’t you?” He sweeps the back of his hand down the side of my face. “Someone has beaten you down. Made you feel bad about yourself. Was it that boyfriend you had back east?”

  It would be too easy to say it was Eric.

  “No, I can’t blame him. It’s me. When I arrived at Harvard freshman year, I found out I was no longer the smartest girl around. I wasn’t even in the top half of the class. I struggled for every test, every grade point.”

  “You’re still the smartest girl I know.” Romeo grins. “And the most beautiful. Sexiest too. Hot, really hot, I mean, no one can tell by looking at you because you’re so reserved most of the time.”

  “You make it seem like I have no faults.”

  “Of course you have faults. You’re stubborn, bullheaded, jump to conclusions, impulsive, very impulsive, and crazy fun. And you’re slutty too, with me,” he whispers, tickling my left ear. “I bet I’m the only guy who brings out your inner slut.”

  “You are so arrogant.”

  “I know.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “I’m sorry I left you in a lurch, and I should have texted. Why didn’t you call?”

  “I thought you were done with me and you were feeding me lines from your soap operas, so I kind of shut down. How’s your mom?”

  “Better. I didn’t say anything yesterday because I didn’t want to burden you with worry, not until I knew she was going to be okay.”

  “I’m really sorry, Romeo. I’m sorry I kicked you and said those mean things. I didn’t believe you wanted to see me again. I mean, did you come here to see me or eat lechón?”

  “See you, of course. After my mom woke up I talked to her about it and she said it was obvious. You thought I only wanted you for a one-night stand.”

  Shock waves arc over me like a third rail up my spine. “You talked to Tita Elena about us?”

  “Yes, I mean, she’s my mother.” He takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. “We have a very open relationship.”

  “Oh my…” I slap the side of my face. “What if she’s telling my mother right now. Did you tell her about my birth control slip up?”

  His face widens with a huge grin. “Of course not. There are some things even I wouldn’t share with my mom.”

  “I hope she’s not saying anything to my mom. Did you know they were setting you up with Genie? That’s why you’re taking her to Julia’s wedding this weekend.”

  “Wait. I’m only escorting her to a wedding, not getting set up with her. Who told you this?”

  Bingo! Either he doesn’t know or he’s again, a great actor.

  “Maybe you should ask your mother.”

  “I’m only here for three weeks. What does she hope to accomplish?” Romeo swipes a hand through his hair.

  Far be it from me to spill secrets between mother and son. “Have you heard of the expansion plans to San Marcos? Colocation of Tita’s bakery and our restaurant?”

  “No wonder she has me bringing cakes every time I visit and including a rose for your sister. Gurg!”

  “What about the dates? Has she told you?”

  “She told me it’s a favor for your mom.” He counts his fingers. “First one, wedding. Second, prom, as if any self-respecting twenty-four-year-old wants to go to a prom. But then again, since you ditched me, I’ve never been to one. Final one, benefit concert.”

  “Oh, no! The three-date rule Filipino style.” I clap my hands over my mouth. “By the end of three dates, you’re practically engaged. The fourth date is your wedding.”

  “You’re kidding me.”

  We break apart laughing. I’m joking, of course. But I wouldn’t put it past the grownups to make up a three-date rule to serve their own purposes.

  Romeo hooks me in for a kiss, a real wet, tongue-sucking kiss. Mmm… with essence of lechón kawali, liquid smoke, and a squirt of lime. Yummy.

  The door thumps open. Ooops.

  “Papa!” I yelp, jumping back.

  He shakes a finger at me. “You’re still grounded. Get back to work.”

  Chapter 17

  By the time my shift ends, my eyes are ready to pop out of their sockets. Genie’s skater friend posted the “R
omeo gets Decked by Doris” video online and it went viral. Hordes of sightseers descended on our restaurant. Choco even retrieved the broken plate and scattered pieces of pork from the trash and set up a display table near the front entrance.

  I keep telling Papa, no publicity is bad publicity. In fact, Romeo’s studio must have agreed. They sent a publicist who handed out tickets to their next location shoot at the Coronado Beach Resort, famous for old time ghost movies.

  My arms and legs are barely functional when I fall onto my bed.

  “Go away.” I fend off Genie, who’s so excited her hashtag #GenieDishes is trending in the Philippines.

  “It’s mid-afternoon in Manila and everyone’s talking about Romeo and the plate of lechón in his face. All because I served tofu. Ha, ha. Oh, someone’s tweeting me. They want to have a Twitter party,” she jabbers on, and on.

  “Enough already.” My head throbs at the base of my skull, probably due to the stress on my trapezius muscles from hoisting trays all night.

  “Genie, off to bed you go.” Choco takes charge and grabs my younger sister by the shoulders, shoving her into her room.

  I pull off my clothes and stuff them into the hamper, then grab a towel and run for the shower before my sisters get to it.

  I return to my room to find my mother sitting on my bed. My eyes quickly go to the nightstand where the morning-after pill’s sitting, still wrapped and displayed in its original packaging. Casually, I drape my towel over it.

  “Mama, aren’t you tired?” I yawn and tug my nightgown over my shoulders.

  “Anak, pick up that towel. Since when have you become such a slob?” She juts her chin at my nightstand.

  I fold the pill package inside the towel and throw it in the hamper.

  “Uyuh, you don’t throw damp towels into the hamper.” She rises to take it out.

  “Mama, I’ve got it, okay?” I quickly swipe the towel from the hamper, letting the pill package fall in deeper. “So, how’s Tita Elena?”

  Mama takes the towel and hangs it over my desk chair. “She’s fine, but tells me you and Romeo?”