39. Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Magic Meets Home
SAL
The art show opened in less than two hours. The suppliers finished setting up the decor, food stalls, and activities; other partners set up their booths; and, most importantly, the art and the artists were primed and ready. When Magic Meets Home was at its best.
Now all that was left was for Sal to get it together.
“Even a broken heart heals,” she said to herself.
Sal had been hurt, bruised, and emotionally beaten before.
She would grieve her relationship with Rafa after the art show, but for now, she had to focus.
She had a wager to win. Sal wore a classic Maria Clara style Filipiniana gown.
The dress had subtle floral embroidery, and it looked so finely woven it might as well have been made of cocoon silk.
She had styled her hair into a clean bun, showcasing the pearl studs that brightened up her face too.
She smoothed her dress. As she walked out of her room, she overheard Theola and Willow speaking.
“Is Sal ready yet?” Theola asked, sounding energized. “We’re about to open the art fair, and she’s supposed to be here greeting people.”
“She’ll be down soon. Sal is always early,” she responded.
Sal lifted her skirt and began to descend the stairs slowly.
Willow turned her head, her eyes widening slightly. “A vision,” she said as soon as Sal stopped at the foot of the stairs. Willow had dressed up in a modern baro’t saya and left her big curly hair loose and clipped on one side with a pearl barrette.
“Girl!” Willow gasped in awe, and this time it was Sal who twirled around and attempted to do a hair flip, and they both laughed. “You look exactly like the beautiful women in the paintings,” she said, looking tenderly at her friend.
Theola chimed in, “I was just thinking that too.”
Sal looked at Theola and gave her a thumbs up. “Very Theola.” She winked.
Theola tilted her head and beamed. “Thank you!” The young lady wore a beautiful Filipiniana terno dress in blush pink pinya organza.
Her brown hair was tied up in a bun adorned with dangling little butterfly clips.
“Are you guys ready?” she said as she eyed the door leading to Agoncillo Street, “I’ll warn you guys, it’s quite the crowd. ”
Willow opened her pamaypay1 and started fluttering it. “Locked and loaded,” she announced.
Sal smoothed her dress again, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. “Let’s do this, guys,” she said.
And with that, they all walked forward as they opened the door.
Bright sunlight streamed into the BnB, and lively music and laughter reverberated through the air.
There were colorful stalls filled with Filipino delicacies everywhere, and brightly colored signboards leading to the various art fair exhibits along Agoncillo Street.
The crowd was slowly filling in, with people dressed in both modern and traditional Filipiniana.
Soon, Taal Heritage Town became a motley mix of colors, music, and vibrant cheer.
It differed from Harmon’s opening night the week before.
It felt more like an inclusive celebration of heritage, art, and Filipino belonging mixed with the allure of magic.
Willow walked over to a man dressed in a red polo shirt serving Filipino delicacies. “Kuya,” Willow attempted in Tagalog. “What are these?”
“Kakanin2 madam!” said the man. “Here, po.” He offered Willow a paper plate of assorted puto, or steamed colorful rice cakes, with cheese, ube, and coconut shreds sprinkled over them.
Willow thanked him, grabbed one of the toothpicks he placed on the little rice cakes, and helped herself to a bite as she continued walking with Sal.
Theola trailed behind them. “This is super filling. I’m happy we allocated some of the budget to pay for small businesses to be here,” Willow said. “It reminds me of home.”
“I miss St. Stephenshire.” Sal agreed. “But I’m glad I’m able to do this here where I grew up.”
They walked over to the Wedding Gift House amid the crowd of artgoers, and worked their way to the antesala, where the grimoire was proudly on display on a book stand, protected by an acrylic case.
As the focal point in the antesala, Sal had hired a security detail to guard it.
A crowd had gathered near the grimoire. Many of them were scholars and critics who were also at Harmon’s opening night.
There were whispers surrounding the grimoire, and as Sal, Willow, and Theola took a turn about the room, Sal immediately found Harmon in the crowd.
He looked tall and stately in a modern take on the Barong Tagalog.
It was white and long-sleeved, made of delicate fabric with fine embroidery, but cut in a looser silhouette and buttoned all the way to the collar.
The most striking detail was a black lace ribbon, bolo-tie–inspired but worn like a cravat and woven with silver thread.
Against his black trousers and polished leather shoes, the look felt sharp, contemporary and high fashion.
Harmon carried it effortlessly: a modern vision of Filipiniana for men.
Then she felt an energy she knew too well in the same space.
She turned to see Rafa assisting an artgoer by talking about the grimoire.
He donned a traditional Barong Tagalog with minimal embellishments.
The only thing pointing to anything modern was a dainty enamel pin of the Philippine flag on his chest. He had some stubble growing on his face, which cast a dark contour over his chiseled jaw and chin, and his salt-and-pepper hair was slicked back, as he smiled graciously at the artgoers who asked him questions about the grimoire.
There was something effortless yet chic in how Rafa carried himself in his traditional barong.
Rafa locked eyes with her, and immediately, she looked away, distracting herself by walking around the room and greeting critics and guests.
Eventually, she found Harmon standing next to her.
He held her hand and kissed it. “Well, you have a way of impressing too, Sal,” he said, his voice smooth as silk.
“You’re more vibrant than anyone or anything here. ”
Sal eyed him, her heart aflutter at his words of admiration. There were so many things she wanted to show Harmon and hear his opinion on, but she didn’t know where to begin. “I’ll show you the paintings and sculptures I procured,” she said.
As they walked around the house commenting on the paintings, the sculptures, the stories and craft behind them, she sometimes saw Rafa cordially greeting guests and peering at both her and Harmon moving around together.
It was awkward being in the same room as her boyfriend and ex-fiancé.
Perhaps Rafa also felt the tension, and true to his nature—grounded and never being one to retreat from discomfort—he did not keep his distance.
Instead, with steadiness, he made his way toward Sal and Harmon.
Sal welcomed his calm and safe presence. “Do you need a moment?” Harmon asked.
She smiled and nodded back at him, and just like that, Harmon stepped back and joined the circle of critics he had been conversing with just minutes ago.
By the time Rafa reached her, she was alone. “Care to share the story of the grimoire again?” she asked.
Rafa offered her a tender look. “Of course, Madame Art Director.” He smiled as he walked her through the large room and toward the grimoire. “Is there anything in particular you’d like to know?”
“Yes,” she said, looking at him and then back at the grimoire, “Is there a spell in there that can turn back time?”
Rafa grinned. “I’m sorry, but the grimoire doesn’t have that,” he said, not breaking character. “But I found a recipe to bring back good memories that are long forgotten. It’s the only thing we have left when we lose someone…”
Sal smiled warmly; they both had good memories of their own too.
Rafa stared at Sal. “You’re the only person I see in this room,” he said in a sad tone. “You look beautiful. And you’ve created something beautiful.”
Sal felt warm just being around Rafa. He had that effect on her.
He made her feel bigger than she was, even if she was having a terrible day, and when she was out chasing her dreams, he made sure she never wavered and had enough strength to press on.
She had given up this loving man. But she had made her choice, and there was nothing to be done.
“Sal?” Theola whispered from behind her. “It’s time for your speech.”
Sal nodded and looked back at Rafa, who smiled back. “Go get ‘em.”
Sal lifted her gown and turned around; she eyed the shut ventanilla overlooking Agoncillo Street and walked toward it.
This was where she was going to give her speech.
Sal would stand from the Capiz windows and from there would say her speech to the onlooking crowd.
From the background, she could hear Theola and Willow ushering everyone out for the speech.
Within minutes, she saw the steadily gathering crowd through the crack in the Capiz windows.
Strangely, she felt calm. Her shoulders squared, and her chin held high as she poised herself in her beautiful Maria Clara gown.
Just months ago, she faced a smaller audience in Autumn Town, opening The Art Cards of Nowhere as a nervous mess back then.
But now, in the wake of all that she had lost, Sal stood proud.
Sal was not physically strong. Nor did she grow up to be the bravest in the room.
But today, she didn’t mind cracking a few knuckles and revealing a side of her that had not been fully realized—the kind that would fight for what was hers, that would fumble brilliantly, and that was unwilling to go down without a struggle.
She would fight; she was going to win this.
Slowly, she opened the Capiz windows. Light streamed across her face. The warmth of the reckoning sun gradually encapsulated her as she stepped forward for a future she would fight for.
1.
Pamaypay is a traditional Filipino handwoven fan, used to cool down during warmer climates.
2.
. Kakanin is a general term for assorted Filipino rice cakes.