Chapter Twenty-Two
Dalisay pushes up the hatch and climbs into the attic.
She has to stoop to navigate through the low room and fumbles for the light’s pull chain. With a yank, the dim bulb illuminates the attic to reveal the mess before her. Despite living in San Francisco for over a year now, the remnants of their move are still evident in the stacks of unopened boxes hastily thrown in the attic with every intention of finding a place for them “later.” It’s turned into a Sisyphean task that only Dalisay is willing to handle. And later has become now.
She’s completely jet-lagged, having returned from the Asia tour yesterday, so she uses the time when the house is still asleep to get work done. Like she told Evan once, when she’s jet-lagged, she doesn’t quite feel like a person, as if she’s still dreaming. Doing things around the house at least gets her feeling more back to normal.
Garage sales are not something people in the Philippines do, and her mom is excited to host her first one. It’s Dalisay’s job to sort through the boxes and find things that they don’t need anymore, riffling through their contents, and organizing them into piles for her mom to review later.
In one box, she finds her dad’s old shirts. She gently picks one up and brings it to her face. They still smell like him. Her eyes prick with tears.
When she was on the trip, she made a special detour through Manila, so she could visit his grave. She sat there for an hour, looking at his name, and missing him so terribly, it felt like she might never be whole again. She told him about her life in America, working at Overnight, how she’d thought he would have loved playing board games with her in The Basement. She told him she wants to come back for All Souls’ Day next year, and that she hopes he knows that she’s okay.
She makes sure not to put his box of belongings in the garage sale pile.
The next box she finds must have been one of the last to get packed up, because random knickknacks and items are nestled in here too, like candlesticks, an old vase, some paper flowers, and one of Daniel’s soccer trophies from high school. The closer it got to their move date, the less careful they became about packing in favor of making sure everything made it into the shipping container. Those last few days in Manila were a blur. She barely remembers any of it, but somehow one of her books made it into this box—her old diary. She thought she’d lost it in the move, but she must have thrown it in here during the chaos.
Emotion creeps up her throat as she picks it up and flips through it, scanning the bubble lettering of her youth. Years pass in a second as she thumbs through the pages. Her last entry was the day before her dad died. The rest of the pages are blank. She never wrote in it again.
Curiously, she flips back to the familiar section of the diary where she had the list of traits she wanted in her perfect man. The list is a lot longer than she remembered. It goes for a hundred lines, and Dalisay smiles at her ambition. Nicole was right; Dalisay was never going to find someone who met all that criteria. But the last line is the most important one, the ink darker—the pen having gone over the lines more than once for emphasis—as if her younger self was putting all her anger into the page.
101. Someone who makes me happy.
She remembers now. She added it after things ended with Luke. As if she needed a reminder that Luke had failed on all fronts in that regard.
A laugh catches in her throat and she looks at the words written by a girl who wanted so much from the world but was always too cautious to find it. Being happy is all she really wants, and she was happy with Evan. She really was. Being with him was like she’d finally set foot on solid ground after being at sea for years.
But it was too late to talk to him. By the time she mellowed out, too much time had passed, and she was sure he never wanted to speak with her again. She typed, deleted, and re-typed so many texts that she never ended up sending, she had to block his number so she wouldn’t make a fool of herself and call him in a moment of weakness.
She kept looking at their old texts, unable to avoid smiling when she came across his accidental kissy-face emoticon. At the time she’d thought he’d done it on purpose, a ploy to get under her skin. But when he awkwardly tried to backpedal seconds later, it made her laugh so hard, she snorted milk tea up her nose. Maybe it was in that moment that she really had a change of heart about him.
Their last night together, she’d been so caught up in her pain, it was hard for her to think of anything else, even as their fight dissolved everything they’d built. She panicked. And she ran.
She stores her old diary in the safekeeping pile.
Later that morning, still with cobwebs in her hair, Dalisay finds her mother sitting on the deck outside. The sun is rising, casting the backyard in a warm, orange glow while her mom reads a book with her coffee in a thermos on the armrest. Dalisay remembers how her parents used to sit outside every morning before work, drinking their coffee and reading on the balcony in their apartment in Manila. Now the deck chair next to her mom is empty.
Dalisay collapses into it and lets out a sigh.
“Where is everyone?” she asks.
Mom doesn’t look up from her book. “Daniel’s in the garage, Lola’s on her walk, and Nicole is …” Her eyes lift slightly from her book. “I believe she’s still in her room.”
They’re still not talking. It’s been months, and Nicole and their mom can barely be in the same room as each other. It’s a bad habit in the family not to talk about the things that are bothering them, and their mom is the reigning champ. She would rather pretend it never happened than ever admit she did anything wrong.
There’s something about the calm of the morning that suddenly makes Dalisay snap. They’re not in Manila anymore, her father isn’t here anymore, she and Evan aren’t … Nothing is right, not when her sister is spending all her time in her room to avoid their mother, and she’s sick of pretending that it is.
Remember where you came from, her father said. Remember where you’re going.
Nothing has to stay the same.
“I was sleeping with Evan,” Dalisay says.
Mom goes stiff and she turns to look at Dalisay, like her head is on a rusty joint. “Excuse me?”
Dalisay knows this is a can she cannot stuff worms back into. Heat spreads on her face, but she’s committed. “When Evan and I were dating, we were having sex.”
“Dalisay Rose—”
“Are you going to throw me out for losing my virginity before marriage?”
Her mom’s eyes are wide as she stares, totally at a loss for words.
“I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you would react like this,” says Dalisay.
“Have you lost it? What man will want to marry you if you’re not a virgin?”
“Guess I don’t want to marry someone who cares about that in the first place.”
Mom’s face is bright red when another voice comes from behind. “I smoke weed.” It’s Daniel. He’s standing in the doorway, leaning on the frame, arms crossed over his chest. The glint of the morning light makes the lenses on his glasses look like they’re on fire. “After studying all day, I like to unwind. Shall I pack my bags too?”
Their mom is speechless, mouth agape, as she stares at him.
Daniel locks eyes with Dalisay briefly, and an understanding passes between them. They’re a united front. Daniel moves from the threshold and onto the porch, this time leaning on the wooden railing.
She looks like she’s going to pass out. In the Philippines, a person can be put in prison for life for having drugs, even something like weed. “Drugs?” Mom says, finally. “In this house?”
“Lots.” Daniel pulls out a clear baggie of gummy bears. Edibles. “Welcome to California, Mom.”
She looks between the two of them, aghast. “Have I done such a terrible job raising my children? Is this because your father died? Are you acting out?”
Daniel sighs loudly and shakes his head. “We’re a little old to be ‘acting out,’ Mom.”
Dalisay says, “The point we’re trying to make is all of us have secrets. Nicole wanted to tell you hers because she loves you, and she wanted you to know because all she wants is to know you love her too, no matter what.”
“I do love Nicole! I just want her to be … safe!”
Dalisay’s heart hurts. It’s true, being queer in America is a lot better than in the Philippines, but it’s still not as safe as it should be. But that means Nicole needs her family to stick up for her, not reject her.
Mom’s eyes shine as Dalisay leans forward, elbows resting on her knees, and says, “We can all help keep her safe. You always say family stays together, that’s why Lola moved here with us, right? But you’ll lose Nicole if you’re so concerned about what other people think.”
Her words hang in the air between them for a while, filled only with the sound of birds chirping away in the trees. Even Daniel seems to be holding his breath.
Dalisay has never done anything like this before.
Mom’s eyes are hard when she says, “I am so disappointed, in the both of you.” She snaps her book shut, emotion welling up in her eyes, and she leaves, closing the door behind her.
When she does, neither Daniel nor Dalisay say anything else for a long moment.
Dalisay can’t help but feel like she failed. She tried to stand up for Nicole, but now it’s only made her mom even angrier. She expects that this will be yet another thing that won’t be talked about in the house.
Dalisay doesn’t regret doing it. She would do anything for her family, even if it means saying they’re wrong. It’s not too late to try to change things for the better.
“I know what you were trying to do, noble as it may be,” Daniel says, “but I’d really rather that be the last time I have to hear about your sex life.” He gags and shivers.
“Evan and I are done, so …”
“No, I know. That ship has sailed. I don’t think I ever told you I kinda liked him,” Daniel says. “Too late now I guess.”
“Yeah, Nicole did too. He even offered to let her stay with him after the whole thing with Mom.”
Daniel looks impressed. “He seemed like a good guy.”
“He is a good guy.”
She had been so caught up in her emotions at the time, she barely had time to process how nice it was that he offered. She regrets a lot of things about how it ended. There are a lot of things she regrets, but finally standing up to her mom isn’t one of them.
She holds out her hand toward Daniel. “Wanna share?”
He passes her the bag of gummies, and she takes one. Sometimes it’s good to be a little rebellious.
Dalisay slaps the book closed a little too hard. It’s one of Lola’s, an epic Filipino romance.
She almost doesn’t notice she dropped her bookmark as it flutters to the floor. It’s the one she uses most often these days, the note Evan left attached to her book-scented candle.
Here’s to stories worth telling. —Evan
She picks it up from the floor and traces her finger across the edge of the card. It’s soft now, from her touching it so much, but it still smells like that candle.
“Sitting all alone?” Lola asks.
Dalisay looks up to see Lola standing in the hallway, shuffling toward the kitchen and making a beeline toward a plate of turon, the family’s go-to snack.
“I was just reading,” she says as she wipes her cheeks with the back of her wrist and helps Lola with a plate. Lola makes no mention of her tears or the puffiness of her face; instead she hums a little love song that Dalisay doesn’t recognize.
“What book?” Lola asks.
“The Story of Florante and Laura in the Kingdom of Albania. I hope you don’t mind. I found your copy in the attic when I was cleaning it out.”
Lola’s face crinkles when she smiles. It’s so easy to see Papa’s face in hers. “Ah! A true classic.”
From what she managed to read, Dalisay knows it’s one of the most romantic stories she has ever read. Told in song-verse called awit, it’s about lovers separated during Spanish colonial rule; about injustice; and how love can win the day. If only life were like the stories.
Nicole appears in the kitchen, checking her phone, dressed and ready to go somewhere.
“Where are you heading to?” Dalisay asks.
“Out, with Pinky. And you’re coming with us.” Nicole reaches over and takes a turon, pinching it in her teeth. “Ooh, this is good, Lola.”
Lola seems more than pleased with the compliment.
“Where are we going exactly?”
“Mall. You in? Pinky won’t take no for an answer.”
Dalisay considers it for a moment, then says, “Sure. Why not.”
Lola makes Nicole take another turon before her sister heads back to her room, saying she forgot something. Of everyone in the house, Lola is the only one who hasn’t treated Nicole differently. In her own subtle way, Lola is taking Nicole’s coming out a lot better than Dalisay expected—that is to say that Lola has hardly changed at all.
Dalisay wonders if she’s made her own assumptions about her grandmother.
“Did you ever have your heart broken, Lola?” she asks.
Lola considers it for a moment and wipes her fingers on a napkin on the table. She pinches a gold necklace and Dalisay realizes she’s reciting a passage from Florante and Laura. “‘Is there an ache that might exceed the pain that parting lovers heed? The notion, let alone the deed, could shake a heart of staunchest breed.’”
She must have the entire awit memorized.
But the way she says it makes Dalisay think maybe Lola’s been in a similar situation, that she’s lost someone dear to her.
“Do not let a broken heart break you,” Lola says. She touches Dalisay’s cheek just as Nicole reappears.
“Pinky’s here!” she calls, already heading to the door with a slight skip in her step.
Time to go. Can’t keep Pinky waiting. But Dalisay can’t help but wonder what secrets her grandmother may have, what kind of life Lola lived before she had children, a life that Dalisay realizes she knows almost nothing about. Dalisay wants to ask, but like most things, perhaps she needs to be patient and wait until Lola shares it with her. She imagines it’s a story worth telling.
Dalisay gives Lola a quick kiss on the cheek before she leaves.
Dalisay can’t remember the last time she’s been to a mall; it feels like a lifetime ago. In the Philippines, the mall was one of her favorite places to go after school. Her favorite one in Manila was called the Shangri-la Plaza, and it really lived up to the name. It seemingly had everything: all the best American fast-food restaurants; expensive designer stores she could only window shop in; a movie theater where she saw Pride and Prejudice for the first time; even a chapel where she half-joked she’d get married to Keanu Reeves one day. It’s nostalgic going to a mall now, even if the one here in San Francisco just isn’t the same, but Dalisay thinks maybe it’s because she’s not the same person now as she was when she was in Manila.
The Westfield Mall is similarly structured like the Shangri-la, with five floors pierced through the middle atrium by what Dalisay can only describe as an inverted Christmas tree hanging from a glass dome. The marble floors echo almost every sound back tenfold as Dalisay, Nicole, and Pinky ascend the escalator and Pinky picks a seemingly random direction, and they begin their much-needed girls’ day out.
Pinky and Nicole seem determined to step into every store they see, even the ones that sell beauty products that smell like dessert or clothes and jewelry for goth teens. Both Nicole and Pinky giggle like teenagers themselves, trying all the products, and Dalisay can’t help but smile.
Nicole points out a mannequin in the Nordstrom window who is wearing a man’s suit. “Hey, doesn’t that look just like the one Evan wore for Simbang Gabi?” she asks.
“Yeah, I think so,” says Dalisay. He looked so handsome. She could tell he was tired, and yet he seemed to wake up when he saw her. He tried so hard during Mass to blend in, and it warms her heart even now thinking about it. He really did try.
At the nail salon, a result of Pinky’s loud and repetitive complaints that her nails were abysmal, Nicole picks out a shimmery pink color for Dalisay. “Doesn’t it look like capiz shell? So pretty!”
It does. It’s a soft, delicate color that definitely looks like their old parol, the one Evan broke.
“You should pick that one! It’s so you,” Pinky says, smiling from the waiting area, and Dalisay agrees.
The color is subtle and catches the light now and again, drawing her eye to her hands. She remembers the way Evan looked so apologetic, sweeping up the pieces, the flush of embarrassment deepening the color in his cheeks. Evan was so determined to make things right.
When they stop by a candle store, drawn to it by an intense aromatic river floating through the air, Pinky holds a candle for Dalisay, thrusting it under her nose. It smells exactly like old books. Dalisay lets out a contented sigh and her shoulders relax.
“I knew you’d like it!” Pinky says, taking a whiff too.
“You should buy it then,” says Nicole, cradling a pumpkin spice candle to her own chest.
She had no intention of spending money today, but Dalisay does. It reminds her of old maps, and Evan’s lips on her skin, and towers of books threatening to topple over.
Later in the evening, they decide to see a movie at the theater. They’ve re-released Moulin Rouge, starring Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman, but Dalisay is just thankful she can be off her feet for a few hours. Even though she’s not one for musicals, it’s a lot better than Dalisay expected. While it’s no Pride and Prejudice, Dalisay doesn’t try to hide the tears streaming down her face when the lights come back on. It was a sad story, but a good one.
She hangs back, letting Pinky and Nicole take the lead as they head back into the mall, laughing and chatting about the movie. Dalisay can’t bring herself to join them.
She misses Evan.
It’s been months, and she should have moved on by now, but she can’t. She misses the spice of his deodorant, the way he looked at her, kissing him. It’s an ache, deep down inside of her, that she can’t shake. Everywhere she goes, she’s reminded of him. He made her happy, and she blew it.
She almost lets out a cry as someone walks their dachshund past her. She even misses Tallulah!
Nicole must sense that Dalisay is in the thick of it and appears at her side.
“Doing okay?” she asks.
“Don’t worry about me,” Dalisay says, waving her off. “Must be allergy season or something. What were you saying?”
Pinky says, “We were talking about how Ewan McGregor looks just like someone, but we can’t really place him.”
“Oh, I know now!” Nicole says with a snap of her fingers. “He looks like Evan!”
Dalisay twists up her face. “Bit of a stretch,” she says. “They look nothing alike.”
Nicole shrugs and resumes chewing on the straw of her drink from the concession stand. “Maybe so.”
“You know what!” Pinky says, brightly. “It might just be that the movie reminded me how cute you two were together. How he was so crazy about you. Enough to start singing for you and all that.”
“Right!” Nicole says, bobbing her head. “That must be it.”
Dalisay stops walking but Pinky and Nicole go on without her. It’s almost too much of a coincidence, isn’t it? Almost like it’s stage one, the “Teasing of Friends.”
Something inside Dalisay stirs, and her heart skips a little in her chest.
It can’t be … can it?