Chapter Eleven
Late on Sunday evening, Evan’s on the couch reading with Tallulah curled up on her pillow beside him when he gets a text from Daniel.
Can you call me? it says.
Evan’s heart pounds. That’s never a good sign. Usually if everything is okay, it can just be in a text. If Daniel wants to call, this is serious.
He doesn’t text back. He calls Daniel right away.
“Is everything okay? Is anyone hurt?” Evan asks the moment Daniel picks up. Immediately, he wonders if Little Luis might be in the hospital.
“Oh yeah, no, everyone’s fine,” Daniel says. Evan can hear the TV going in the background, and distant conversation growing more muffled as Daniel gets up and leaves the room. “Sorry, I should have just texted you what it was.”
Tallulah looks up from her pillow, head tilted to the side, curiously listening to Evan’s conversation. He scratches her behind the ears as his heart settles back down from his throat. “Okay, good. I’m still a little shaken up after what happened.”
“It’s just a parol, dude,” says Daniel, laughing. “Seriously, everything’s good.”
“Really? Your mom’s not mad?”
“She’s not mad, seriously, she’s the whole reason I’m calling. She has officially invited you to Simbang Gabi.”
“Invited me?”
“She asked about you specifically, and I quote: ‘Will Evan be joining us?’ ”
“Oh!” Evan blinks a few times, processing. He knows, objectively, that Mrs. Ramos knows his name, but he never expected that she would actually use it in conversation without him present. He realizes he truly cares if she approves of him.
“Is this part of Servitude?” Evan asks.
“Not officially, no. Unless you want it to be.”
Evan closes his book, using his finger as a bookmark. “Not particularly.”
“Figured as much. So is that a yes?”
“Yes! Yeah! I’m so thankful she thought of me.” He licks his lips. “Does Dalisay know?”
“As a matter of fact, she does.”
Evan doesn’t know what to do with this information, but his heart upticks a bit.
He can practically hear Daniel smile. “So I’m guessing you have no idea what Simbang Gabi is.”
“Uh, no.”
Daniel laughs again. “Don’t worry. It’s a series of nine Masses held each day leading up to Christmas. The church we go to holds them at six in the morning.”
“That early?” Evan repeats, balking.
“You’re lucky we’re not going to the ones at midnight.”
The only time Evan’s ever gotten up that early was to catch a flight. It’s not part of the Five Stages, and he could still say no, but he realizes he doesn’t want to. “No sweat. I look forward to it.”
St. Mary’s church, a Spanish revival-style cathedral in the Marina District on the north side of the city, is already bustling with parishioners making their way through the front doors by the time Evan arrives ten minutes before Mass starts.
He stands on the sidewalk, looking up at the bell wall lit up with Christmas lights and an illuminated parol ten times larger than the one he shattered. He’s never been to a Catholic Mass before and he’s not sure what to expect. When he told JM and Pinky what was happening, they reminded him to follow what everyone else did and he’d be golden. He needs to make it up to Dalisay’s mom somehow, even if she kept telling him the parol wasn’t an issue. Going to Simbang Gabi is the least he can do.
Near a giant church bell with a plaque on it, the Ramos family stands chatting in a small group, except Little Luis and Melinda. Probably being a toddler and a heavily pregnant woman gets them a free pass to stay home. Dalisay stands apart from the rest, craning her neck, seemingly searching for something.
Or someone, Evan thinks.
She’s wearing a modestly cut floral dress and black tights with a long-sleeved white cardigan, and her hair is pinned up behind her ear with a clip decorated with jasmine flowers. When she spots him, she smiles and Evan’s stomach flops with nerves.
He adjusts his suit jacket and tugs at his tie. It’s suddenly too tight.
When he comes over, Mrs. Ramos’s smile lights up like the decorations above. “Evan! Good morning!”
“Morning! Morning, everyone,” Evan says, a little breathlessly, smiling at the group. “Thanks for inviting me.”
Mrs. Ramos is bursting with energy, despite the early hour. “Of course! We’re so glad you came. You look very sharp.”
Cheeks hot, Evan’s eyes dart to Dalisay, who’s slightly turned away from him to look at the nativity scene. She tucks her hair behind her ear and Evan notices that she hasn’t stopped smiling since he arrived.
“Let’s go inside,” Daniel says around a yawn.
Nicole too looks like she’s just rolled out of bed, and she grabs Dalisay’s hand, dragging her to the front doors.
Lola bursts through the group to stand next to Evan, snaking her thin arm through his.
“She’ll walk with you,” says Daniel as Dalisay and Nicole walk ahead of them. Evan secures Lola’s hand in the crook of his elbow and escorts her inside.
Exposed wooden beams stretch across the ceiling overhead, drawing his eye to the front of the cathedral where a statue of Mary stands in front of the largest golden crucifix Evan has ever seen. Three giant Christmas trees are on the altar, flanked by bouquets of white peace lilies and ornate wreaths, and a solemn but excited hum permeates the air as people take their seats in long wooden pews.
Mrs. Ramos chooses an empty row, and everyone files in, leaving Evan at the end. He tries not to stare, but every so often, he catches glimpses of Dalisay when someone shifts or turns their head. Evan’s not sure what to do with his hands, especially during church, so he chooses to leave them clasped in his lap.
The entire Mass, Evan can hardly think about anything else but her.
Every day for the next week, Evan gets up bright and early to meet the family at St. Mary’s. After the third Mass, he starts to get into the rhythm of the service, knowing when it’s time to stand, or pray, or hold hands, even though it’s all in Filipino.
Despite that, he actually looks forward to spending more time with the Ramoses. They make him feel like he’s part of the family, opening their arms and welcoming him into their world. Some days he sits next to Daniel and they talk comics, other days he sits next to Melinda (who makes an appearance with Little Luis now and again), or Nicole and they talk dogs (she’s always wanted one), or Mrs. Ramos and she asks him about his writing, but he never gets to sit with Dalisay. Still, no matter how far away she is from him, it’s like she’s a radiator, drawing him in from the cold. All he wants to do is be near her, but the family finds ways of keeping them apart.
On the ninth day, Christmas Eve, Evan sits next to Daniel again.
Before Mass starts, Daniel gently nudges Evan with his elbow, startling him. He hopes Daniel hasn’t noticed that he was staring at Dalisay.
But, sneakily, Daniel holds out his fist and drops something in Evan’s hand. A peppermint. He must have taken it from the bowl in the vestibule before coming in.
“Thanks,” Evan whispers. “Does my breath smell that bad?”
“No, you’re good,” Daniel says. “It makes these services not so unbearable.”
Evan slips the mint in his mouth. “Why do you say that?”
Daniel shrugs. “Once you’ve been to one of these, you’ve been to ’em all. We’re not supposed to eat anything before Communion, so I’m always starving. I’ve been up all night, studying. I’d rather be in bed. Oh, look, the delegation is here.”
Daniel’s gaze draws Evans to a prim, silver-haired couple in matching gold outfits.
“That’s the Consulate General from the Philippines and his wife,” says Daniel, switching the mint from one side of his mouth to the other, making it click on his teeth. He laughs. “My mom is practically foaming at the mouth to talk to them. Look.”
He’s right. Down the pew, Mrs. Ramos is craning her neck to get a look at them and whips out her compact mirror to check her makeup.
Evan smiles and his eyes flick back over to Dalisay. She and Nicole are talking quietly. Her eyes are bright, and she’s wearing an “ugly” Christmas sweater today. It’s covered in button-sized bells, puffballs for snowflakes, and neon-green reindeer running down the sleeves. It even has built-in lights, like a real Christmas tree. Somehow, she makes it look good.
“Yo,” Daniel says, nudging Evan again. “Insider tip. If you really want to impress my mom by being here, you should know that the last Mass today is called Misa de Gallo, Mass of the Rooster. Afterward, it’s tradition to ring the bell out front to commemorate your first novena.”
“Are you serious?” Evan asks, scrunching his brow.
“Hell yeah, I’m serious.” Someone gasps behind him, hearing him curse, and Daniel makes the sign of the cross. He leans back into Evan. “They say the sound is supposed to scare away any spirits that might want to do harm in the coming year. I did it when I was old enough to finally sit through all morning Masses. It’s a rite of passage.”
Evan’s never heard of anything like that, but who is he to question it? It’s not his culture. “But I’m not Catholic. Am I allowed to?”
Daniel nudges him again. “It’ll be big brownie points with my mom. Trust me.”
When Mass finally ends, and the congregation floods out of the building, Evan steps into the bright morning sunlight with the rest of the Ramos family. Dalisay and Nicole are talking with Melinda, and Little Luis tries to bolt into the grass to play before Dalisay catches him by the collar.
For a brief moment, Dalisay glances his way, holding Little Luis back, and a smile brightens up her face. She off-loads Little Luis to Melinda, color apparent in her cheeks.
Forget butterflies; Evan’s stomach plops over like a bag of sand, heavy and solid. Does he really have a shot with her? Why is she smiling at him like that? Is he reading too much into things? He’s made it this far, and Daniel is even helping him, so did she change her mind about him after all? Have they really changed their minds about each other?
Daniel catches his eye, tipping his chin up ever so slightly, and gives him the thumbs-up.
Right, the bell. Maybe after this he’ll have earned his way to stage five.
Most people mingle in small groups, chatting with one another, and small children run between the groups like frogs jumping from rock to rock in a river. Daniel gives him another encouraging thumbs-up while Mrs. Ramos discusses a course of intercept for the Consulate General and his wife.
Evan takes a breath and adjusts his suit jacket.
Whole-ass, he thinks. All or nothing.
Evan approaches the bell and looks around, waiting for someone to beat him to it, but no one does. He tries to read what it says on the plaque, but it’s all in Filipino. He wonders if it’s some kind of prayer. Without thinking much else about it, he reaches for the hammer underneath, pulls it back, and lets it go.
The second he does it, the deafening sound of the bell makes everyone on the block fall silent. People stare at him with mixtures of shock and befuddlement. The priest shakes his head, mouth open. The Consulate General and his wife stare, baffled. A child gapes at him, picking his nose.
Daniel covers his mouth in silent laughter and Lola rounds on him, scolding him in Tagalog. It was a prank.
Heat rushes to Evan’s face as the priest steps forward. He points a finger to the plaque on the bell.
“That is the original bell from this church after it burned down in 1906,” the priest says, his tone curt and disapproving. “It is not for ringing.”
Evan’s blood runs cold. He’s never been scolded by a priest before; it feels surprisingly like being scolded by his father. Panicking, he looks over at Dalisay, whose face is bright red. She looks at Evan, then at Daniel, her jaw set and her lips pinched. When she looks at Evan again, his heart drops.
What has he done?