“Yes, it took some time to separate our belongings, and even though he paid for the lease, he let me stay while he stayed with friends.”
“How long were you with him?”
“I dated him five years, and lived with him the last two.”
Tita Elena reaches back and pats my knee. “If he were to come for you, would you go back to him?”
So, this is the crux of the interview. Thankfully the traffic starts moving again. I swallow a lump, unable to clear my scratchy throat.
Romeo turns up a hill leading to Tita’s La Jolla residence. I could run out the clock. But not answering is worse. I can’t leave them with a cliffhanger.
“Would I take him back?” I muse aloud.
Romeo pulls up the inclined driveway and hits the garage door opener. Instead of driving in, he puts the car in park and looks over his shoulder.
“Would you?” Romeo challenges me. “Pretend he’s here asking you for another chance. What would you do?”
I’m zeroing into Romeo’s eyes, seeing my reflection, knowing my answer is identical to his answer to my question for another chance.
“Honestly, I don’t know.”
Chapter 20
“Julia’s postponing her wedding,” my mother announces over breakfast.
“Why?” I ask. “I thought she and Steve were inseparable.”
“What are we going to do about all the extra food we ordered?” Choco stabs one of the sausages in her longsilog, a plate of sausage, garlic rice, and two eggs over easy.
Papa pours coffee for us. “Tita Elena’s not feeling well enough to attend. Romeo said she’s more tired than she’s letting on.”
“But it’s not her wedding,” I say, although secretly I’m relieved she won’t be subjecting herself to a public appearance and stressing over cake perfection.
“She’s Julia’s godmother, did you forget?” Mama says. “Anyways, I talked your Romeo into booking the banquet facilities for his film crew. They’re going to shoot a couple of scenes.”
Papa high-fives Mama. “See why I married you?”
I glance at Genie who is spreading butter on a piece of toast. She alone does not eat the traditional Filipino breakfast laden with eggs, garlic rice, gravy and meat. Actually, now that I’m vegan, I pick at my scoop of garlic rice.
When Mama said “your Romeo,” was she looking at me or Genie? He’s still taking her to the prom in a week and I’m still grounded as far as Papa is concerned. He doesn’t want anything to interfere with my return to medical school.
“I’m glad Romeo’s crew will hire out the restaurant,” I say, just to have something to say. “We shut down the entire operation on a Saturday for the wedding, but now, we can have regular lunch hours and the dinner party.”
“Will all his co-stars be joining him?” Choco asks, her brow furrowed.
“Everyone.” Mama beams proudly. “They’re adding the fight with the plate of lechón to the movie and auditioning extras for the scene.”
“Do I get to play myself?” Genie raises her hand as if this were a pop quiz.
“That’s the best part,” Mama says. “We all get to play ourselves, and I heard they changed the script. The math nerd is going to dump Romeo.”
“I thought that was already in the plot.” Choco shoves another sausage in her mouth.
I really need to speak to her about eating more sensibly. At five-foot-even, her one-twenty pounds is at the upper limit. I’m four inches taller and weigh five pounds less.
They jibber on about the soap opera and Genie’s prom dress. I tune them out, pouring myself another cup of coffee.
“Can Evie have prom night off?” Genie’s scratchy voice alerts me to the developing conversation.
“What for?” Papa slurps on an egg yolk. “Since you’ll be out, I was going to make her hostess.”
What is Genie cooking up? Does she want me to watch her parade around with Romeo all night?
She sees my narrowed eyes and winks. “One of the chaperones had her baby early and I figured you guys would want one of my sisters to keep an eye on me.”
“What about Choco?” Mama says. “She’s great at keeping track of things.”
“Oh, no.” Choco pours herself a glass of whole milk. “Keep me out of this one.”
I eye the milk as she glugs it down. I need to speak to her about the fat content of whole milk.
“Who would she go with?” Papa says. “She doesn’t have a car.”
I thump my coffee cup. “Hello, can you guys stop speaking about me in the third person?”
“Romeo says he’ll drive both of us in his mother’s car.” Genie flashes me a smile.
This could be awkward, but I have to believe they’re cooking something up. Romeo isn’t interested in child brides and lately, Genie is always texting and twittering someone.
The parents buy it, lock, stock, and barrel.
“It’s settled then,” Papa says. “We all know Evie will be the perfect chaperone for Genie and Romeo.”
# # #
Thursday and Friday pass and I don’t receive a text or phone call from Romeo. In fact, I haven’t seen or heard from him since he dropped me off after picking up his mother.
Should I be worried? Maybe he’s the one Genie’s texting all day long. I type out a message to Eric: I no longer care if you ignore me. This has been cathartic. I am being ignored by others too. It doesn’t bother me.
I pad to the bathroom and step on the scale. One hundred-thirteen. I’m wearing the hostess dress for the film crew dinner tonight since Genie has to leave early to go to a friend’s graduation party.
I also don’t have to reenact the lechón incident since I had already appeared in the film as moto-girl. They decided to use Choco to play my part.
I admire the dress Mama picked out for me. It is a light green baro’t saya with a tree of life motif curling from my left breast down around my waist to the end of the dress. The collar is low-cut and square, and the sleeves are like fluffy butterfly wings. I’m not sure how the light green would play with my medium tan complexion, but Mama assures me I look fabulous.
If I didn’t know her so well, I’d wonder which gentleman she’s trying to set me up with. Perhaps one of the film investors?
There’s a knock at the bathroom door.
“Hey,” Choco says. “Are you going to the filming?”
“Do you need me?” I fit the dress in front of me. Not bad. The light green color would wash out a paler girl.
“No, since Papa hired the temps for the wedding, we can use them to serve the crew. Do you want to watch the shoot?”
Romeo would expect me to watch. I glance at my cell phone. Nothing.
“I think I’ll crack open some medical books and do some studying. See you guys dinner time.”
I really could use some alone time. Ever since I’ve been back, I’m only alone in the shower or in bed.
Besides, it’s time I played hard to get. I turn off my phone and plan on my day of leisure. A jog through the neighborhood, a couple hours studying, a long nap. A perfectly boring day is in store for me.
# # #
Six hours later, I’m lying on my bed surrounded by books depicting body parts and organ systems. The doorbell intercom chimes repeatedly, rousing me from a state of groggy memorization.
Who could this be? My parents live in a gated community, but then it isn’t hard to tailgate after someone who knows the code.
I ignore the person at the door, but he keeps trying and I’m sick of hearing Big Ben chime. I stomp down the hall and push talk on the intercom button. “Whatever you’re selling, we aren’t buying.”
“Delivery for Miss Evangeline Sánchez.”
“From where?” I’m suspicious. Delivery men aren’t usually this persistent.
“Edible Creations.”
I open the door and sure enough, it’s a delivery man holding a large red box with a bow.
“Who’s it from?” I ask while signing for it.<
br />
“Didn’t look.” He shrugs and takes leave of me.
I shut the door and open the note card. It’s from “Whoever you think.”
“Romeo, is that you?” I speak aloud to the wall while opening the box. It is filled with chocolate dipped fruit of various combinations rolled in nuts and coconut shavings. Yum.
I pick a dark chocolate coated strawberry and put the rest in the refrigerator to share with my family. I wander down the long hallway, my footsteps echoing on the Saltillo tile. This large house could get freaky without anyone around.
The doorbell chimes as soon as I enter my bedroom. I hang a u-turn and pad back down the long hallway. It’s a flower delivery man and he hands me a large bouquet of red roses.
The card is from “You guess.”
“Romeo, you’re too crazy.” I filch a crystal vase from the curio cabinet and arrange the roses in the water. Their scent perfumes the air in the formal dining room.
I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll make it back to my room when the doorbell Big Ben’s again. “Romeo, Romeo, why art thou doing this?”
I pretend to be exasperated, but I’m tickled and can’t wait to see what new surprise he springs. I yank the door open without speaking in the intercom.
It’s… It’s Clicky Boy?
I start to close the door, but he sticks his hand in. “Hear me out. I have great news for you.”
“Romeo’s not here.”
“I know.” He lowers his brows and wiggles them. “May I come in?”
“No, you may not.” I speak too late. He’s already shouldered his way in, and he’s carrying a briefcase.
“This won’t take long.” He studies the wooden fork and spoon decoration near the entry. “Why do you have a giant fork and spoon on the wall?”
Dweeb.
“Because we like to eat,” I raise my hands, claw-like, “people like you.”
“Very funny.” He tilts his head and scratches his chin. “I do believe you have potential.”
“Okay, what do you want?”
“Mind if we take a seat in your living room? You have a DVD player there.” He saunters from the tile floor to the carpet without taking off his shoes.
“Hope you’re not trying to rob me, Mr. What’s Your Name Again?”
“Oh, I never introduced myself. Mr. Trieber. Dick Trieber.” He shakes my hand and forgets to let go.
I extract my hand and feel the urge to disinfect it. “Dick? Are you serious? I didn’t know guys went by that nickname anymore.”
“I’m British. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He picks up the remote and turns on the TV and DVD player, then inserts the DVD.
“What are we looking at?”
“You.”
Sure enough, a clip of me strutting up the snake path in front of the UC San Diego library comes into view. They always say the camera adds twenty-five pounds, but I actually don’t look too bad, if I may say so myself.
“Here’s a close up shot,” Clicky Dick says. “See how the sun is kissing you?”
“Well, yes, those were the directions you gave me.” I well remember his instructions to imagine myself having an orgasm in the sun.
“So, now that you see your potential, I’m here to offer you another role in Romeo’s movie.” He drops the remote and rummages through his briefcase.
“Wait, you owe me fifty dollars, and to tell the truth, I’m not interested in another fifty dollars to spend hours sweating in the sun.”
Tricky Dick grins slimily and opens a folder. “This is going to be in studio. My producer has agreed to offer you five thousand dollars for both the snake scene I just showed you and a makeout scene with Romeo on a motorcycle.”
He slides the contract to me.
“I’m not going to be nude, am I?” For five grand, they must be getting something out of me.
“No frontal nudity, but you’re going to be topless, wearing a short moto-jacket, unzipped.” Dicky Boy pulls a cigar from his suit pocket and sticks it in his mouth. “Romeo will, of course, get a great view of your assets, but I’m sure he’s seen them before.”
“Why, you presumptuous…” son of a…
“Mind if I smoke?” He lights the cigar before I can get a word in. “Five thousand dollars for a few hours of work.”
I wrinkle my nose at the pungent, sweetish smell reminding me of a musty basement. Pah. But I sure could use five thousand dollars.
“You mentioned motorcycles. Is it dangerous? Is that why you’re paying so much?” Picking up a magazine, I fan myself.
He grabs a glass restaurant candle and flicks his ashes in it. “No danger. It’s a simulated motorcycle in the studio. Of course we’ll run the fans to blow your hair and the machine will vibrate and jiggle so it looks like you’re really riding hard.”
He snickers as if he’s made a funny joke.
On second thought, I might just be riding Romeo in a porn movie.
“Wait. Is this a sex tape?”
“Do you want it to be?” He smirks and takes another drag on the stogie.
“Of course not! I’m a respectable medical student.”
He flicks more ash into my mother’s candle holder. “It’s not a sex tape. Filipino audiences are too conservative for that. You’ll be wearing a leather miniskirt and straddling him while he rides the simulator.”
I swallow hot, melted drool. I’ll get paid to ride Romeo?
Dick Trieber waves the smoking cigar around. “Bumping, and grinding, and tongue jockeying. There’ll be a few lines, about how hot he gets you, how you can’t wait to get back to his place, and then he unzips his pants and well, if you’re not wearing panties, you might have a close encounter. But this would be off camera. We don’t do X- or even R-rated films.”
My body is already flushing hot thinking about doing Romeo on a motorcycle.
“How many hours time commitment?” I rein in my lust and curb my nasty imagination.
“Depends on how many takes we shoot. I have a feeling it’ll be worth your while. The simulator even does road bumps and motor vibrations.” His eyebrows do the caterpillar dance. “Do we have a deal?”
“Yes, sure. When?”
“Next week sometime. I’ll call you. Sign here, here, and here.” He stubs the cigar in the restaurant candle holder and hands me a pen.
Chapter 21
Papa drives back to pick me up for the evening shift. I’ve already sprayed air freshener and aired out the house, but a faint trace of tobacco remains. My father doesn’t seem to notice.
He takes my handbag and his eyes linger on me. “The dress suits you well. You have the most beautiful skin tone.”
Praise from my father is rare, unless it has to do with academics. I raise my eyebrows and peek behind him, wondering if my mother’s in the vicinity.
“Thank you.” I’m suddenly shy. I’ve always had a warm, golden tan, whether I go in the sun or not.
“There’s a reason I keep you hidden in a plain black shirt.” He winks.
I’m sure my cheeks are rosy from the heat. He’s flattering me. This can’t be good. I’m already grounded. What more can he do?
“How did the movie shoot go? The great reenactment?”
“It was a lot of fun.” He laughs. “Poor Romeo must have a splitting headache by now. They had to do so many retakes because of all the laughing and giggling. Neither of your sisters could keep a straight face, and Mr. Dee was too much of a ham. They changed the story to have him try and catch the pieces of pork as it went flying.”
“Must have been a lot to clean up.”
“Studio paid for it.” He’s still standing in the hallway and hasn’t made a move for the front door.
“So, should we go now?”
“Sure, in a little while. Why don’t you take a seat.” He ambles to the living room and waits for me to sit.
“Is everything okay?” I nervously rub my hands on my dress.
He clears his throat and tugs his pant legs to sit. Leaning forwa
rd he shakes his head. “I can’t blame Romeo for trying. What man wouldn’t want to have you for himself? But, well, let’s just say this will never work.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You and Romeo. It won’t work.” He tightens his lips and stares at me. “It’s a childhood thing you’ve outgrown already. And right now, I see you two caught up in a fantasy.”
“Honestly, I’m not caught up in anything. I’m taking a mental health break and going back in a few weeks. Can’t I have some fun while I’m here?”
“Evie, you don’t get it.” His voice turns gruff. “Romeo is serious. He asked my permission to court you.”
“Court me? What century are we living in?”
No one takes this seriously. Not these days, but men still ask for a woman’s hand to give honor to her father and allow him to save face. Of course, none of this is binding like it was two centuries ago.
“I’m glad you think this is a joke,” my father says. “But I’m not giving my blessing. You’ll do whatever you want behind my back, even live with a man. But right now, the most important thing is for you to get your emotions in check and go back to medical school.”
“And guess what?” I stand, my hands at my side. “I agree. But while I’m here, I would like to go out with him or any other guy.”
“I’ll think about it.” He stands and walks toward the door. “I don’t want to see Romeo hurt again.”
Hello? I’m your daughter. What about me? Shouldn’t I get what I want? But then, Romeo’s father died when he was a toddler, and in many ways, my father is the closest father figure in his life, given how intertwined our lives are.
I’m peeved, but I follow after him and get into the Lexus. “Why did you tell him about Eric?”
“Romeo needs to know how indecisive you are.” Papa starts the engine.
“Why are you on his side?”
My father drives to the gate before turning to me. “Because I was like him once.”
“Tita Elena?”
“Yes.”
“But you guys are all over it, aren’t you?”
“Sure.” My father takes a deep breath. “But it wasn’t easy. She used me as a crutch, but the day she got what she wanted, she dumped me like an overdue library book.”
Spring Into Love Page 36
