Chapter 33
This moment right here? This might qualify for plot twist of the century.
No one in their right mind could’ve ever guessed that both Ilagan sisters would get this worked up over prom. For a while, I thought that my sister seeing Pa and her joining in on the plan would be a good thing, a more likely win-win for everyone.
Then I remember that she is impossible to work with.
Prom and Pa’s fortieth day are scheduled this weekend, and we can’t even decide what dress to get Ma to wear for prom.
“You want Ma to wear that to Saint Agnes?” Achi gawks at me when I show her one of the options I picked out.
“It’ll look good on her figure,” I insist.
“With that cut, they’ll see all of her figure.” She rolls her eyes at the gown’s very classy open back and points again at the mannequin in the long-sleeved dress covered with feathers. “I really think we should go with that one.”
“Have you ever been inside the Saint Agnes gym? Ma is going to sweat right through that dress.”
Throughout Christmas break, my sister dealt with Pa’s situation in different ways.
There was denial: “How did you do this? Through the computer? Some new AI thing?” Achi said while patting down Pa’s body like she was airport security.
Anger: “I can’t believe you kept this from me! If the ghost of a dead parent appears, it’s understood that you should tell your sister!”
And the last stage that’s been going on ever since:
Indifference.
Achi has been acting stranger than usual since Christmas.
When Pa asked if we wanted to watch the fireworks during New Year’s like we used to do, Achi turned him down and said she’d rather stay inside and avoid the smoke.
Even when Pa asks her about her job, Achi never goes into psych mode, and replies with mostly one-word answers.
I keep having to confirm with Achi if she actually sees and hears Pa since she’s sure not acting like she does.
So that leads us here, trying our best to not kill each other while we re-create the most magical prom night for our parents. Achi actually proved useful in that aspect since she proposed to the admin that our prom needed more parent chaperones and volunteered Ma for the list.
I really feel it in my gut that prom is the solution to everything. Getting crowned prom king and queen seems like the epitome of my parents’ high school love story. If that all comes back to Ma while she’s “chaperoning” our prom, then she should be able to see Pa.
And we can go past Pa’s timeline of forty days.
Yet to re-create a night that changes everything, Ma really can’t wear a dress that makes her look like a sweaty ostrich.
Pa butts in and tries to act as the mediator again. “Nika, maybe you can reach a compromise with your sister,” he suggests. “Plus, your mom looks good in anything.”
“I can handle her,” Achi says curtly, then moves on to ask the shop attendant if they have a newer version of the dress in stock.
At first, I was trying to give my sister the benefit of the doubt and thought that she’s still processing seeing Pa again, but this is just rude.
She keeps avoiding eye contact, following me around whenever I leave her and Pa alone for one second.
You would think that she’d be a little more excited to see our dead dad back.
Hours later, after the staff at the store loses all patience with us, Achi and I still can’t agree on a dress. We ultimately decide on letting Ma choose, and having the losing dress (most likely the ostrich monstrosity) returned.
Achi brings the two dresses to the counter, and I stick close by to make sure she includes my pick. Pa trails us and tries his best to spin this whole shopping ordeal into a great sister bonding moment.
“How was your shopping experience today?” the cashier asks as she scans the items.
“Stressful,” I mutter.
Achi ignores me and takes out her credit card.
“Ah, Ms. Ilagan!” The cashier beams when she reads Achi’s details. “Great to see you again. The dresses that you had altered are also ready for pickup.”
When did Achi get dresses altered?
Wait … Has my sister been shopping for Ma without me?!
She can’t even look me in the eye when she tells the cashier that she’ll pick them up another time.
I tell the cashier to hold the purchase and hurry over to the women’s section again. “Nika,” Achi hisses when I go through the gown selection. “I’m not buying more than two dresses.”
“If you’re giving Ma more options, I should get more options too.”
Each dress I remove from the rack, my sister grabs and puts right back. I clear a whole section out of spite, and my sister barks at me to stop causing a scene. “Those dresses aren’t for Ma,” she snaps. “They’re for you and me.”
Achi has never shopped for me. I mean, clearly, our tastes are very different, and my sister never shops unless it’s for necessity, like a school thing or fancy occasion …
I hold my breath when it registers. “These are for the wedding, aren’t they?”
She can’t even give me an answer.
When she’s busy returning the dresses I took out, I get straight to the point. “You’re still planning the wedding?”
I swear my sister was paying attention to me. After I repeatedly detailed how re-creating past memories has been making Pa more “human,” she told me she’d go along with the plan. It’s common sense that re-creating our parents’ love story means forgetting about Ma’s other wedding.
Her eyes flit from me to Pa. “I’m just not sure—”
“What?” I ask, stunned. “Aren’t you happy that Pa is back?”
“Of course I am!” Her hands tense from how tight she’s gripping one of the clothing hangers. “But you said his fortieth day is this weekend, right? What happens after that?” Her lip slightly trembles and she looks away from him.
Her voice breaks when she says, “Losing Pa was hard enough the first time.”
“Jackie…” Pa tries reaching out to Achi, but she brushes him off again.
“So what’s your plan?” I lash out at my sister. “You’re going to cheer Ma on when she gets married to Dr. Derrick?”
“You’re too young to understand, but there are a lot of things that go on in a relationship—”
“I know that!” I cut Achi off, annoyed that she’s again talking to me like I’m clueless. “And Pa has been telling me all about their relationship. I’m sure Ma still loves him.”
Achi scrubs her hand over her face. “I’m talking about Ma and Uncle Derrick, Niks.”
My palms start to sting from how hard my nails are digging into my skin. I almost hear something snap in my brain the longer I have to stand here and listen to my sister talk about how “good” Dr. Derrick is for Ma.
“He really gets what Ma’s going through and knows how to help her…”
I can’t. If I keep listening to this, I swear I’m going to hurl one of the mannequins out the window.
Achi keeps calling my name while I stomp off to the fitting rooms. My body couldn’t physically take hearing another word from her about “Uncle” Derrick.
Like, did Dr. Derrick hypnotize Achi during her last dentist appointment or something?
! She always uses that “too young” line—discrediting my opinions just because I’m the youngest, but I’m our parents’ daughter too.
From the space under the dressing room curtain, I spy the shoes of different people walking back and forth.
Then the image of watching Pa’s shoes pops back in my memory.
It was during that last year we had with Pa.
I woke up in the middle of the night because I heard Pa and Achi arguing outside our bedroom.
I inched closer, watching their shadows under the door.
When Achi came back inside, she turned on the music in her speakers, drowning out any noise that happened outside our bedroom.
“Nika?”
I look down and see Pa’s shoes turned toward me.
“Can I come in?” he asks.
Pa crouches and kneels down in front of me when I unfasten the curtain. He did this when I was a kid too—when he wanted to have a “serious talk,” he always lowered himself down, made sure we were seeing each other eye to eye.
“I’m still mad at her,” I say, making sure that point is very clear.
He bows his head and sighs. “Jackie knows. She walked around the mall so you can have time to cool off.”
When that doesn’t move me, Pa adds, “Your sister has been through a lot.”
“Couldn’t be worse than dying.”
Pa draws in a sharper breath when he takes a seat beside me on the fitting room’s bench. I steal a glance at the mirror in front of us and notice Pa’s body flickers in and out. At times, I’m the only one who’s reflected.
Pa shifts when he says, “Maybe we should rethink this whole re-creating memories strategy.”
“What?” My body tenses on my seat. “We already wasted so much time during Christmas. We can’t stop now.”
“But what if this isn’t what’s best for you girls?”
How can having my dad back not be what’s best for us?!
“Don’t let Achi get into your head,” I tell him. “She always acts like she knows everything, but she hasn’t witnessed how you’ve been coming back. You’re almost here.” I swallow down the emotion when I think of losing Pa again. “You’re taking Achi’s side when she’s been ignoring you.”
“There aren’t any sides here.”
“If there were, you’d be on Achi’s,” I grumble.
“It’s complicated, Nika. You were still so young then…”
“I’m not anymore!” I snap at him. Ugh. I’m so sick and tired of my family using that excuse over and over again.
If my achi heard this, she’d already be midway into scolding me for being so disrespectful. She might never stop lecturing me if she heard how I lashed out at Pa during Christmas too. An apology is hanging on my tongue when I feel Pa squeeze my hand, his fingers tapping the side of my wrist.
“I should’ve handled it better.” His mouth tightens, looking like he’s struggling to find the words. “I’m so sorry I left you and Jackie like that. I could’ve done something earlier…”
Why is Pa apologizing?
“It wasn’t your fault,” I say, immediately trying to console him.
The narrative I heard has always been that Pa’s collapse came out of nowhere. During his wake, the priest gave his whole homily on how to accept the things in this life that we may never understand.
Everything in me quickly deflates when I see Pa’s faded reflection in the mirror. It’s like his spirit is barely holding on.
“Pa, you can’t give up on the sun when it’s just about to rise.”
He looks at me then like I’m speaking in some other language.
“It’s one of your proverbs,” I remind him.
“Oh. Right.” He does a low chuckle. “Hard for me to keep track of all the stuff I make up.”
I can almost hear the glass shattering in my head with the realization.
“Wait. You’ve been making all those quotes up? This whole time?” I ask. “The one about the heart in fancy, the fish in the ocean, that there’s magic behind superstitions?”
My legs go weak when it registers that Pa barely remembers any of it. All his advice, the words I’ve been clinging to like my personal bible … I can’t believe none of it was true.
“Whenever you and your sister were going through something, I’d think of some saying to make you feel better,” he explains, but with a faraway expression.
I try to calm and steady myself when I ask Pa about my personal favorite proverb. “Remember that time I got my tonsils removed?” I wait for him to nod before continuing, “You told me that when something bad happens to you, the universe owes you something good in return.”
Then out of nowhere Pa says, “That was one of the scariest days of my life.”
My eyes dart to him to make sure he’s being serious.
“You were … scared?” I clarify.
Pa puts his hands close together. “You were this tiny when you were rolled off to the operating room.” The smile in his eyes dims when he remembers. “I was so scared something was going to happen to my bunso, and I didn’t have control over anything.”
“You never told me you were scared.”
He waves that off. “I’m not supposed to show you stuff like that, Superstar,” he says. “I’m your dad. I’m supposed to be strong for you.”
I didn’t even think that fear was in Pa’s vocabulary. I mean, this is the same person who told me seeing a ghost would be like reuniting with his best friend. The same person who said he’s mastered controlling his feelings and not letting emotions overwhelm him.
My hand reaches for his face, gently stroking the area near his scar. I wonder how many more times Pa lied and said he wasn’t hurting.
The words come out so quiet when I admit, “Sometimes … it would’ve helped if I knew you were scared too.”
Pa kisses me on my forehead before he pulls me in for a hug. His breathing slows and deepens as he wraps his arms around me. I almost don’t hear him when he says, “I’m scared now, Superstar.”
My whole heart aches and I wish there was something, anything, I can do to absorb some of what he’s feeling. Are there any words I can say right now to make him feel better?
“Having you back is what’s best for our family, Pa.” I hold on to him tighter, wishing it were enough so he never has to let go.