Chapter 30
Something I’m grateful for this Christmas: the fact that wine makes Auntie Baby more talkative.
While we’re gathered around the dining table for our noche buena meal, Auntie Baby has taken control over the whole conversation.
Works for me. It means I don’t have to participate in any small talk with Dr. Derrick.
I can’t believe he had the nerve to show up here on Christmas Eve. Doesn’t he know Christmas is supposed to be a family thing? Pa’s smiling and making jokes beside me, but I can tell he’s upset too.
“I used to find it so romantic, all those Hollywood movies where couples share a kiss under the mistletoe,” Auntie Baby says, taking another sip from her glass.
“Baby convinced me to cut class once to visit different florists so we could find mistletoe,” Ma chimes in.
“Did you know that there’s a new breed of mistletoe that’s been growing in Cebu?”
“Maybe that’s why Cebuanos are very romantic,” Auntie Grace says.
Auntie Baby ponders this before going back to her story. “But when we were in school, I couldn’t find any mistletoe anywhere, and one florist felt so bad that he gave me these garlands of sampaguitas for free. How was I going to get a kiss with a sampaguita?”
“That’s why your Auntie Baby decorates her Christmas tree with sampaguitas,” Pa whispers, lending his own commentary.
I hear Seph groan. “Ma, do we have to listen to this story every year?”
Auntie Baby reaches over and pinches Seph’s cheek. “Christmas is more magical when you’re kissed.” She pats his cheek before saying that he’ll understand more when he’s older.
“And I was so excited that year because that was my first holiday with an actual jowa!” Auntie Baby beams, then turns to Seph.
“But your dad is such a gentleman that even when we had gone out on dates, I could tell he was careful about kissing me. And I wasn’t going to bring it up!
As a proper lady, you’re not supposed to initiate. ”
I catch Dr. Derrick sneaking a glance at Ma at the mention of kissing.
Disgusting. Aren’t people with medical degrees supposed to know how to read a room?
! “So I hung all the sampaguitas up on the window in his car, giving him the signal like I was a Hollywood girl waiting to be kissed,” Auntie Baby shares.
“And then Dad started sneezing,” Seph mutters.
Auntie Baby then reenacts the dialogue of the whole moment.
“Baby,” she imitates Uncle Francis with a voice that sounds like Cookie Monster’s. “I’m allergic to all these flowers! We have to remove them from the car.”
And Auntie Baby protests, “No, they’re supposed to be romantic!”
“How are my allergies romantic?!”
Enter Auntie Baby’s dramatic pause, which Ma takes as her cue to ask, “What did you say next?”
Auntie Baby ends her story with the line, “Because the flowers are supposed to be our mistletoe.”
Long story short: Uncle Francis gets the hint, they make out in the car, Auntie Baby declares the story of her first kiss as a Christmas miracle for years to come.
When I sneak a glance at Seph, he’s scowling and ripping the bibingka on his plate into smaller and smaller pieces. I guess hearing about his parents making out puts him in a mood.
“Don’t worry,” Auntie Baby says, pinching Seph’s cheek again. “Your father said he’d try to make it to graduation.”
“Of course he did,” Seph says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Auntie Grace clears her throat. “It’s frustrating how few tickets they allot for these graduations. How many tickets do they give for family at Saint Francis?”
“I think you can request for four,” Seph says.
“At least that’s one more.” Auntie Grace sighs and turns to Kayla. “How are we going to bring your grandparents when your school only provides three tickets?”
Ma looks at me then. “They gave out graduation tickets already?”
My eyes dart to Kayla for help.
“They just announced it,” I lie, keeping my voice steady.
“Didn’t your teacher hand them out at the beginning of the school year?” Auntie Grace asks.
Shit.
“Ow!” Auntie Grace grimaces. “Kayla, why are you kicking me under the table?”
Kayla shakes her head and mouths Sorry at me.
Then Auntie Baby says, “Three tickets should work out for your situation, Beth.”
…
It was a quick moment, but I noticed it. I saw how Ma and my sister sneaked a glance at Dr. Derrick.
No.
No freaking way is Auntie Baby implying that Dr. Derrick is attending my graduation.
“I’m not inviting him,” I make it clear.
“Niks,” Achi says, warning me to reel it in.
Dr. Derrick has the audacity to insert himself into the conversation. “Baby probably meant you can invite another family member to your graduation, Annika,” he says. “I’m sure you have a cousin, another aunt—”
“Yeah, my dad.”
My whole body tenses when the words slip out of my mouth. I look up and see the familiar concern flood Ma’s and Achi’s eyes again. He’s right here! If they only knew how he’s been here with us for the past few weeks, they’d know that he can’t possibly be gone.
I’m about to tell my family the truth when I hear Pa say that he doesn’t need the ticket.
“You don’t need to waste your ticket on me, Superstar,” he says, giving me a sad smile. “My days will be up by then.”
From that moment, it’s like my brain stops processing.
All the noises around me get muffled. I vaguely hear when my aunties try to give me comforting words about Pa, when Ma attempts to offer me more food, or when Achi says something about handing out gifts.
Their voices get drowned out by the panic hammering in my head.
Will Pa really be gone by graduation? How many of the forty days do I have left? “Excuse me.” I push my chair away from the table and get away from there.