Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Cam
I chewed a mouthful of lechon, relishing how the crisp skin crackled and gave way to tender, garlicky meat. Swallowing, I said to Nikki, “Once again, you are the best chef in the world.”
“I don’t think I qualify as a chef, but thanks anyway,” she said with a laugh.
Eric, the third in our little band of misfits, spoke up. “I agree with Cam. Great food as always.”
“It wasn’t just me,” Nikki said. “You all helped.”
“Me too!” Jo waved her hand. “I helped too!”
I smiled at her. “That’s why it tastes extra yummy.”
The four of us sat at our favorite table in Cuppa Jo for our Christmas Eve celebration.
Like last year, Nikki closed up shop mid-afternoon, and Eric and I came over to help prep food for noche buena.
Traditionally, the meal was supposed to be at midnight, but since Nikki didn’t want to disrupt Jo’s sleeping schedule too much, we had ours at eight in the evening instead.
Somehow, I’d gone from knowing absolutely zero people in this place to having my own small but steady tribe. I couldn’t be more thankful for them.
Something wet nudged my leg, and I looked down at Milo, Eric’s recently adopted dog, who silently begged me for food with large, woeful eyes.
“Not for you, Milo,” I told him as I scratched behind his ears.
He let out a whine but snuggled deeper into my hand. After a minute or so, he left me to try his luck with Jo.
Eric asked me, “You’re still game for the fundraiser, right?”
“Yep.”
He was the cohead of Pinoy Para Sa Dagat, a local nonprofit for ocean conservation.
They held events to raise funds and awareness for the cause, and this time, they were going all out with live music, a film screening, and volunteer booths.
Nikki had one for Cuppa Jo, and Eric, as the main organizer, had convinced me to do tattoos along with another artist.
“You promise you’re not going to screen the people wanting to get tatts from you?” Nikki teased.
I winced. I loved tattoos—getting them and giving them—but the latter only applied to specific people.
I didn’t rely on it for income, though it would definitely help.
The way I saw it, my tattoos were my form of art.
Placing it on someone else’s skin felt intimate, like sharing a piece of myself.
I couldn’t bring myself to offer that up for commercial consumption.
It wasn’t the logical choice, but it was my choice.
Just like it was my choice to support my friend despite my self-imposed rule.
“Yeah, yeah. For one day,” I stressed.
Jo looked up from sneaking a scrap to Milo. “Can I get a tattoo?”
“Absolutely not,” Nikki answered before I could say a word. “When you’re older, sure.”
Jo’s bottom lip jutted out. “But Tita Cammy’s going to tattoo other people. Why not me?”
“I’ll prepare something special just for you,” I promised her.
“Yay!” she squealed, and despite the narrowed look Nikki gave me and the snort from Eric, my lips hiked up. Her excitement was impossible to resist.
“Softy,” Eric murmured to me.
“You spoil her,” Nikki complained, though her smile negated her words. “Now I won’t hear the end of it.”
“You’re going to behave for your mama, right, Joey girl?” I prompted Jo.
Her head bobbed up and down. “Uh huh.”
“Can you start by putting your dishes in the sink?” Nikki asked her.
Without missing a beat, Jo got up, grabbed her plate and utensils, and took off for the kitchen.
“I hope you have a plan,” Nikki told me, “because you know how she is about promises.”
“Of course I do.” Having experienced more than my fair share of broken promises, I made it a personal code never to make a promise I wasn’t sure I could keep.
If only more people could do the same.
Alonzo
“Too full.” Groaning, I rubbed my stomach. I regretted finishing off that extra plate of spaghetti. In my defense, Luna was rarely home, so I had to savor her cooking whenever she was here. But I’d gone a bit too far this time.
“Does that mean you’re not having dessert?” Tala asked.
Mama’s face fell. Fruit salad was her specialty, a recipe she’d perfected with Lola. Mama prepared it every Christmas without fail, even when it had been just the two of us at home.
So even though my stomach threatened to split in two, I quickly said, “Of course I will. I just need a break. Or maybe a walk.”
“Wait.” Tala stopped me as I started to stand. “Before you do, Jason and I have an announcement to make.”
My eyes widened and flew to her left hand, which she’d conveniently kept under the table.
Gasping, Luna jumped in her seat. “Oh my God, yes!”
“I haven’t even said what it is,” Tala protested.
“Go on already so we can celebrate,” Luna said.
Tala sighed. “Apparently, you already know.”
Jason laughed and patted her back, seeming content to let her take the lead.
“Well?” Mama prompted, smiling.
Tala glanced at Jason and, at his nod, blurted out, “We’re engaged.”
Whooping, Luna leapt out of her chair and hugged Tala. “I knew it! Congrats, you guys!”
“Finally,” Papa grumbled even as he grinned from ear to ear.
We took turns congratulating them and admiring Tala’s ring, which had a square center diamond with four smaller triangular-cut ones forming a star on a delicate gold band. The unique design suited Tala completely.
Jason vibrated with excitement, as though he had bottled up the news for so long that his energy could no longer be contained. Tala’s happiness was quieter, but it shone through her eyes. Their infectious joy turned what was already a memorable Christmas into one for the books.
“How and when did he propose? Tell us everything,” Luna said.
Tala shared how Jason had been helping her film one of her dance videos for social media.
He walked up to her to fix the back of her shirt, and when she turned around, he was on one knee with the ring box in his hand.
Of course, he’d captured the whole thing on camera.
Tala refused to let us watch the video despite our attempts to persuade her otherwise.
“It took him a while,” Papa commented. “He asked us for permission months ago.”
No wonder Papa kept bugging them about getting married. It had started when they moved in together last year, but it had escalated in the past few months. I had to give Jason props for asking our parents beforehand—it definitely earned him bonus points with our dad.
Laughing, Jason said, “I wanted to do it when we could celebrate with everyone. Since Luna and Gabe were planning to come here for Christmas, I figured it was the perfect time.”
“He’s had the ring since July,” Luna told Tala.
I blinked at Luna. “Wait, you also knew?”
She nodded. “Jase asked for my input on the design and let me check the fit during one of his trips."
My mouth dropped open. “So I’m the only one who didn’t know?” I’d had my suspicions, but I wasn’t sure it was happening since Jason had never told me outright.
He grimaced. “Sorry, Lonz. I wanted to tell you in person that time we were supposed to play basketball but didn’t get another chance after our plan fell through.”
By that, he meant I’d canceled on him last minute because I needed to study for my criminal law class after messing up the previous recitation.
“Then with my travels the last couple of weeks?—”
“It’s okay,” I told him. “The important thing is you guys are finally getting married.” It would have been nice to be in the loop, though. We both had phones. He could have shot me a text. I’d have made time to meet up with him.
Then again, the guy was a celebrity and an environmental scientist. He was busy doing things, going places. How could I blame him for not catching me up on his plans? Anyway, it wasn’t the first time I was the last to know about things.
“I had no idea either,” Tala said as if she sensed my feelings. “We were supposed to talk about it in January.”
“We will be talking about it in January,” Jason replied. “In a lot more detail.”
The conversation moved to potential dates and locations for the wedding. Tala wanted to get married in the Philippines, preferably at a beach. Jason didn’t mind where they did it as long as it happened ASAP.
As they discussed the possibility of a summer wedding, my thoughts drifted to the year ahead. Tala was getting married. Luna was launching a side gig with her friends in the next few months.
Both my sisters were living their best lives, and I was happy for them. They deserved to live out their dreams.
But that didn’t mean I wasn’t jealous of them too.
Cam
“Ma, I don’t want to sleep yet,” Jo whined even as her eyelids drooped.
“Santa won’t come if you’re awake. You know that,” Nikki said.
“But Tito Eric and Tita Cammy are still here. Milo too!”
Nikki and Eric exchanged a look, and Eric gave her a subtle nod.
“If you go to bed now, Milo can keep you company the whole night,” Nikki told Jo.
She perked up. “Really?”
“Yes,” Eric said. “I’ll even give you a piggyback ride to your room.”
“Okay!” Jo came over and gave me a hug. “Night, Tita Cammy.”
“Night, Joey girl. Merry Christmas.”
“C’mon, Milo,” she called as she climbed onto Eric’s back.
Milo and Nikki followed them to the bedroom. I watched them go and it hit me once again how much they looked like a real family.
If only Eric had the courage to admit his feelings to Nikki.
While waiting for them to return, I snuck in a look at my freelancing app. Some of the projects I’d bid for were still pending; the others were declined. The common denominator for not being picked? Pricing.
Pricing low would give me a better shot at landing clients, but I couldn’t stomach putting in that much time and effort into a project and barely earning enough to cover my expenses.
Sometimes I wondered if pride would get the best of me, but I knew what my work was worth—and it was more than these bargain rates.
Holding my breath, I took a peek at my bank account. The payment from my last client still hadn’t cleared, and my balance was teetering way too close to red alert territory.
Shit. I needed new projects ASAP.
“No.”
My head snapped up at Nikki’s voice, and I shoved my phone in my pocket.
“I know that face. We said no looking at work,” she chided me.
“Who says I was looking at work? Maybe I was looking for a date.”
Nikki huffed as she sat beside me on the sofa. “You, look for a date?”
Chuckling, Eric handed me a beer and plopped on the chair opposite Nikki.
“Fine. A hookup then.” I had no problem admitting the truth. “Also, it’s funny you should say it like that when you haven’t dated in years.”
“I’m busy with Jo and the café,” Nikki repeated, giving me the same answer she had the first time I asked her.
“If you wanted to, you would,” I said. “You know I’m ready to babysit. Just say the word.”
Shaking her head, she took a swill of her beer. Meanwhile, Eric was avoiding my gaze, as though that would save him from my attention.
“I can dog sit too, by the way. Or even do both at the same time.” I stopped short of adding so you two can just go date each other . Even I had some semblance of subtlety, though I couldn’t promise how much longer I’d be able to hold back from meddling in my friends’ affairs.
Eric pressed his lips together, his eyes warning me off the topic. For someone who spoke at conferences and dealt with businessmen for a living, the guy was a total wuss when it came to relationship talk. “Good to know,” he said. “So what were you frowning about earlier?”
A deflection, as usual. I went with it because it was Christmas and I needed to get things off my chest. “I applied for a bunch of projects, but nothing.” I ended my announcement with a long pull of my beer.
“Aww, Cam,” Nikki said. “Maybe people are on vacation. It is Christmas.”
“Two of the gigs I bid for went to someone else.”
Eric winced. “I’m sorry.”
At least I still had two recurring clients. They’d been my staples for over a year now, keeping me afloat through the leaner times. But those contracts had fixed rates and wouldn’t be enough to sustain me, especially with inflation.
Why was living so freaking expensive?
“Do you need cash?” Eric said. “I can?—”
I shook my head. “I’m okay for now, but thanks. I’m just worried because Inang’s stressing over the bills and I think something else might be wrong.” She was seventy-three, so she could have a health issue. Like me, she had no family. No one to depend on but me and her friends.
“She still hasn’t found another renter?” Nikki asked.
“Nope.” Most locals already had their own homes, while tourists preferred to stay at the boutique hotels or popular hostels. “I need more clients.”
“What about a full-time job?” Eric suggested. “Are you open to that?”
I’d considered that multiple times and ended up rejecting it for the flexibility of freelancing. Now, though… “I am, if I can continue to work from here.”
“I’d hire you as our tech person if we had the budget,” Eric said.
“You could work with me part-time if you need extra money,” Nikki put in.
My heart warmed at their offers. I’d met Nikki when I, in my desperation upon my arrival in Juana, almost begged for any job to cover my stay here. Despite my lack of experience, Nikki took a chance on me and patiently trained me to become a decent—at best—waitress.
I’d worked at Cuppa Jo for almost a year, until I’d built up my work portfolio and scored Carlson Tech, my first regular client. The day I turned in my apron, both Nikki and I breathed heavy sighs of relief.
Luckily, my lackluster waitressing skills hadn’t turned Nikki off from being my first real friend in town. She’d introduced me to Jo and Eric, and that had been that.
“Thanks, guys. Nikki, I appreciate the offer, but I’m not good for your business,” I told her.
“You’d scare off the tourists,” Eric said.
I shrugged. “Only the ones that need scaring.”
“You think most tourists do.”
“Yet I agreed to tattoo for your event. You’re welcome.”
He chuckled. “Thank you. You’re still not willing to charge for your tatts as a side gig?”
“Not unless I’m desperate.” Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that.
“Speaking of tatts, what’s it going to be this time?” Nikki asked.
While some people rang in the new year with a list of goals and resolutions, I did so with new ink. “I’m not sure yet. I’ll figure it out when I get there.”
“I really don’t know how you can decide on something permanent on a whim.”
“It’s just skin.”
As much as I chose tattoos that held special meanings, at the end of the day, they were surface level. Deeply symbolic art that hinted at what I’d been through, like the white lines on my stomach and my thighs and the scars on my legs and neck. They weren’t a full reflection of who I was.
What lay beneath the surface—that was for me and the few people I trusted. I could count them on one hand, and they were more than I ever dreamt I’d have.
In fact, they were more than enough.
I couldn’t imagine sharing myself, scars and all, with anyone else.