21. Chapter Twenty-One #3
Sal hid the small notecard in her hand. “Maybe this kind of bag is just like pocket change for him,” she said dismissively.
“Hmm?” Willow had a twinkle in her eye as she managed a soft grin. “I think you have a lot to spill about your day.”
Sal’s hands were still on her lap, and the bag was placed in the box.
Willow headed back to the kitchenette and opened a bottle of juice. “By the way, aren’t you gonna call Rafa with your new phone?”
Coming to her senses at the mention of Rafa’s name, Sal rummaged through her tote bag. “Could you help me set it up while I cook dinner?” Sal said, offering Willow the brand-new phone.
Willow took a huge gulp of her juice and took the new phone, while Sal inspected the gifted bag. She touched the smooth black leather and wondered how much thought went into its purchase.
She closed her eyes and lightly shook her head. Why am I even thinking this? She accosted herself and closed the box, hiding the bag from view. She looked at the little note Harmon wrote and wondered if she should place it back in the bag, but tucked it snugly in her pocket instead.
***
Sal called Rafa as soon as her new phone was up. After a few rings, he picked up. “Hey.” She smiled, her heart quickening at the anticipation of his voice.
“I thought I was dreaming…” he yawned. “Did you finally get a new phone?”
“Yes, I did,” she said. “I haven’t opened your email yet.”
“It’s okay. I didn’t reply to the one you sent yet, but wow, Taal Heritage Town sounds amazing, my love. It’s good you finally found a place…” he said, sounding groggy. “Anything new happen today?”
Sal wondered if she should tell him about Harmon. She paused for a moment.
“Hello? You still there?” he asked.
“Y-yes, I’m here. The strangest thing happened; Harmon took me out for lunch to pay me back for writing a prescription for his assistant,” she said reluctantly. The idea of her having lunch with Harmon had been gnawing at her; she thought of telling him to get it over with.
“Oh…” Rafa said, then after a brief pause, “That’s nice of him to do. Glad you’re using your dentist card too.” She could hear him smile as he spoke. It was just like Rafa to lighten the mood. He was so kind and generous with everything it was impossible not to love him.
The brief pause that followed felt awkward, so she filled the silence and said, “I bought us all charm bracelets. I wanted to give Theola one but ended up buying one for everyone else. The blue one will be for you.”
“Thank you, I’ll wear it every day.”
An hour later, after saying their goodnights, Sal was again left to check her new phone’s features.
A couple of messages came in, and a few voice notes too.
She opened them one by one until she came upon a random message that had been sent to her weeks ago.
“Hello, hija.1” Sal took a breath before she read the rest. “This is Tita Evie. I received your email, but I was unsure to say until I heard you are in Manila. I want to meet you…I know who Harmon is. But it’s hard to explain through text. Can we meet?”
Sal’s eyes widened as she fumbled to reply.
“Hello Tita, sure. When and where can I meet you, po? I am traveling to Cebu on business in a few days,” Tita Evie, or Aunt Evie, was the best friend of Claire’s late mother.
She remembered her as the gorgeous and fun friend that partied with Claire’s mom and sometimes brought her home tipsy.
On days Claire and Sal would have a sleepover because Claire’s mom would be out all night partying, Tita Evie would always tuck Claire’s half-sober mom into bed, prep Claire’s lunch bag, and escort them off to school while she wore one of her fabulous outfits.
Sal wondered what it was like to be such a woman in Manila during the nineties.
Soon, Tita Evie’s reply flashed on the phone screen: “I’m also at Bohol for work.”
“Perfect, I can take the ferry.”
They settled on the date, time, and place they would meet.
Finally, Sal felt everything was moving in the right direction.
She would find out about Harmon’s connection to Claire, and she could leverage that knowledge to her advantage.
She felt a sudden pang of guilt when she caught sight of his gift.
The picture of them in that small ramen shop in the middle of an angry storm came to mind.
Remembering their moments together brought out warm, fuzzy feelings.
Days ago, she had hated the man, and now, somehow, she didn’t.
A story hid in his dark, piercing gaze. In a few days, their trip to Cebu would uncover what that was.
Then her mind rested on Rafa. She missed him and wanted to tell him about all these weird feelings coming up.
She had talked to him just moments ago about getting a new phone, about their plans for Taal, and about her strange date—or rather—meeting with Harmon; but the bag, the bag she purposely left out for reasons she could not yet place.
1.
. Hija in the Philippines is a term of endearment for a girl that is younger than the speaker. It requires a level of familiarity between the speaker and the receiver. Hija is Spanish, and is directly translated to "daughter”