I pressed my fingers against my closed eyes, quickly pushing the memories out of my mind. That's the problem with this house. While it brings out all my most cherished memories, it also conjures the painful ones.
I walked across the room, pulled up the blinds and opened the windows to let in fresh air. I looked out and because I couldn't help myself, my gaze once again strayed to the Paduas' mansion. The large French-door windows of the room next-door is covered with thick maroon drapes, making it impossible to see anything within. My eyes lingered a moment but as I squinted to get a better look, I noticed the dull yellow light leaking from around the edges of the drapes.
Someone's home! There's no way... Could it be that he's —
"Miguel Anselmo Vargas III, how long have you been here? You should've knocked on my door and let me know you're home!"
I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of my sister's voice. "Jesus, don't creep up on me like that!" And then, I winced as I realized she'd called me by my full name, always her way of teasing me. I looked over my shoulder to find Ate staring at me with that half-cocked smile on her face. "And please stop calling me that."
She chuckled wryly. "What did you say, Miguel Anselmo Vargas III?"
I rolled my eyes as I turned around to face her. "Ugh, yes! Quit it. You know how much I hate being reminded that I share the same stupid name as Lolo Ans and Papa." Yup, that's true. If there's any other loathsome thing I've inherited from this family, sharing a namesake with the two men who've become poster boys for toxic masculinity, comes a close second to the debts.
That only made her grin. "Jeez, you're such a drama queen." My sister approached and gave me a wet peck on the cheek, which I wiped away in mock disgust. "So, why didn't you tell me you're already home? I could've sworn you were a burglar breaking into my house."
"Our house," I hastily corrected her. And before she could respond, I added, "Besides, you were busy."
"No, I wasn't," she replied. "I was just in the bathroom drying my hair."
"Exactly. You were busy."
My sister rolled her eyes at me. "Keep doing that and I might accidentally hit you with a bat one day," she warned, and then wrinkled her nose as she looked around in revulsion. "What's that funky smell?"
"The smell of neglect," I replied as I stretched my arms wide, waiting for her to realize she's standing in the middle of a room covered in years' worth of dust. "You and Mama should think about doing some spring cleaning around here." And then, very carefully, I added, "You know you can put some of the rooms up for Airbnb, including mine. I won't mind, Ate. You guys could use some extra cash."
My sister scoffed. "And let a complete stranger stay in the house? No way!"
I let out a long breath. I expected as much. How many times have we had this conversation? This family could use more than just extra money. But no matter how many times I try to make them see we're all better off just putting this big, empty house for rent, Mama and Kate simply won't relent - for sentimental reasons.
Yeah, right.
I tried to steer the conversation in a different direction. There's no point plowing through my agenda right now, because my sister won't take the hint. "Anyway, someone's home."
My sister blinked. "What?"
I pointed my thumb behind me. "Someone's moved in next door, I think."
"Oh." Ate moved right next to me and looked out the window. "Oh, right. Someone moved in last Tuesday. Have you seen the blue Ford Ranger parked out front? It's been coming and going since then."
I cocked my head, expecting her to say something more conclusive, but she stopped right there. "Well? Is it a new family moving in or...?"
Kate shook her head vaguely and leaned against the window. "Nah, it's definitely not a new tenant. You remember the Paduas' caretaker, Mrs. Ruiz? She was there last weekend, cleaning out the house and bringing in some groceries."
My ears perked at the mention of the family name. Ever since the Padua family migrated to Europe back in 2005, there have been a number of tenants who have rented the house over the years. As far as I know, Mrs. Ruiz only ever comes over when one of the Paduas returns to the country for vacation. And it's usually Mrs. Padua, coming home to visit her siblings.
"But did you ask her who's staying in?" I prodded, trying not to let my curiosity show.
She looked at me as though I'd grown an extra head. "Hell no. Did you forget how scary that lady is? She could kill me with a look! I'm fairly positive she's a spinster who hates everyone, especially children."
I reminded her that she's no longer a kid and that she should stop spinster-shaming (for all I know, Mrs. Ruiz could be a widow). "You know, you should get to know your neighbors, Ate. Try to be more amicable."
My sister narrowed her eyes at me. "That's rich coming from you. Do you even know who your next-door neighbors are?"
I shrugged. Fair point. And to answer her question: No, I don't know any of my neighbors in Taguig. Given the nature of my freelancing job, I hardly need to go outside, unless there's an event planning gig. Socializing with neighbors was never on top of my priority list.
"Besides, even Thomas was afraid of the old lady. He even called her a witch. Do you remember he always comes over whenever she's at their place?"
I felt a sudden pang in my chest, at the mention of his name. I blinked, trying to think up something to say. Ate frowned at my sudden silence, then her face softened when she realized what she'd just said.
"Hey, you don't think it's —"
I straightened up and moved away from the window, motioning to get my bag from the doorway. "Nah. I don't think so," I said, cutting off what I know my sister was about to say. "There's no reason for him to come back, is there? Besides, is he even still alive?"
I swear I could feel Ate's pity rolling off her in waves. "Oh, Miggy..." she crooned in an annoyingly condescending tone. She leaned against my back, wrapping her arms around my waist and resting her chin on my shoulder. "You know you can always talk to me about, you know... Him." She emphasized the last word, with a capital 'H'. We both know who she's referring to, and it's definitely not God. But with how the guy used to live in my heart and mind completely rent-free some years ago, he might as well be.
Then again, past is past.
I groaned. "Jeez, I'd rather not. 'Let bygones be bygones', and all that," I said in a sing-song voice, raising my hands and wiggling my fingers dismissively as I turned away and stepped out of the room.
"Hey, Miggy?" My sister quickly followed me out of the room, closing the door behind her. "I'm serious. You can always talk to me, you know. About... about anything."
I fought myself from rolling my eyes. I hate it when she gets serious like this, and for the wrong reasons. I turned to her and wrapped my arms around her shoulders, wishing she'd just drop it. "I appreciate your concern, Ate. I really do. But... let's just leave this one out. Okay?"
"Fine. Just know that my offer still stands," she said, hugging me back.
I hate to be going all sentimental, but I do have a legitimate reason to be thankful to my sister right now. I placed my hands on her shoulders and broke the embrace before things got too awkward. "Hey. I forgot to thank you for giving me this gig," I said, forcing the smile back on my face.
Ate's face lit up at that, radiating with happiness and pride. "You're welcome, Miggy, but you don't have to. This event's totally meant for you. I only did the final push by vouching for you to the committee. And anyway, you're also an alumnus so that's kind of like hitting two birds with one stone."
This is the reason I'm currently back home. While I couldn't complain about earning most of my money from freelancing, it doesn't hold a candle to my passion for planning and organizing big events. Imagine my regret for choosing IT as my college course, when I realized belatedly that I have a knack for business and events management! Then again, they say it's never too late to pursue your passion so in 2018, me and my best friend Elise, worked together to start a small event planning business. We pushed forward and never looked back since.
The 50th Alumni Homecoming Party at my very own Alma Mater is our third biggest project to date. The Batch of 2004 — Ate's high school batch — is hosting this year's celebration. And from what I've gathered, one of the speakers is some hot-shot CEO from abroad who happens to be a fellow alumnus. The guy's rich enough to donate millions of pesos to the school and tonight, there's going to be a ribbon-cutting ceremony for the new building he'd single-handedly funded himself. Too bad the guy's name was lost on me, but then Elise was the one in-charge of the guest list and invitations, so I hadn't bothered figuring out who's who.
Anyway, one can only imagine how much of a big deal this event's going to be for everyone involved. In short, we can't afford to screw this up!
"Seriously, thanks for the referral," I said to my sister. "And thanks for putting your trust in me."
She poked me on the chest. "What're you saying? Of course we trust you! We've all seen what you've done to that mayor's daughter's debutante ball. So elegant, Miggy! It's been the talk of the town for weeks, and even went viral on Facebook. I absolutely loved what you did to the venue. And that chandelier cake?" She made a chef's kiss with her fingers. "It's the best!"
I ducked my head in mock shyness. "Aw shucks, it's nothing much, really. But yeah, I'm glad you guys liked it." What many people didn't know, however, was that planning for and organizing that debut party had been the most stressful moment in my life. So many sleepless nights trying to make everything perfect while meeting the client's demands. I was very nearly on the verge of having a meltdown few days before the event.
My sister doesn't have to know that, though. It's over and done with. What matters is that all our hard work had paid off, and the event was a success.
"I'm positive you're gonna' nail tonight's party, too. This is gonna' be a great addition to your portfolio. You deserve this, Miggy!" She gave me a quick hug and looked at me excitedly. "So what time should you be at the venue?"
"Uhm, around four? Elise has already prepped the place and tonight's menu. She only needs me for some last-minute changes and finishing touches. Which reminds me, you need to drive me to the florist later today to pick up the flower bouquets for the guests." I also made another mental note to follow up with the emcee, the bartenders, the photographers, and the guys in-charge of the music and sound system.
My sister nodded, her eyes sparkling as she gave me a quick head-to-toe scan. "Okay, but what are you wearing to the party?"
I scrunched my nose in thought. "I brought my pink button-down shirt and a pair of slacks. Would that be enough?"
Ate stopped in her tracks as she gasped and turned to me with a horrified look on her face. "I'm sorry, what? Are you kidding me right now?" She looked at me sternly, and I know she's about to say something really stupid. "Seriously, Miggy, are you even gay? I thought you guys always make a big deal of what you wear!"
I raised an eyebrow, trying not to get offended. "Stereotype much? And what's the problem with my outfit? It's not like it's a black tie event."
I was prepared to dismiss her when she said, "Who knows, you might meet the guy of your dreams tonight! Miggy, you have to dress to impress! The gays love it when a guy wears those cute floral shirts. Right?"
"Oh, I'm so sorry for not conforming to your ideals on gay men, sister." I hate it when she keeps poking and prodding at my being single. It's not like I'd marry the first gay guy I meet tonight. Not like that's a bad idea.
Jesus H., am I really that desperate now?
"You know that's not my point," she groused, frowning at me.
"Ate..." I let out a sigh as I rubbed her arms reassuringly. "This isn't some matchmaking party. I'll be fine. Besides, I don't even have to dress nice." She'll have to shoot me in the head first before anyone sees me wearing a floral shirt! "I'll be busy and I'll be moving around a lot to make sure everything's in order." I might even be better off just wearing a T-shirt but again, my sister doesn't have to know that.
"Yeah, well..." She shrugged, and I'm glad she let the matter go.
I checked my watch and couldn't help clicking my tongue. "Look, it's almost one o'clock. Mama's running a bit late for lunch, don't you think? Want me to order delivery?"
"No, thanks. I'm skipping lunch. I need to fit on my little black dress for tonight." She placed her hands on her hips to show off her figure, then gave me a teasing wink.
I gave her an acid look. "Uh, no, I meant for the girls." I can't believe this woman.
"Sure, of course. Elaine prefers Jollibee. Suzanne likes Chicken McNuggets."
"Can we just stick to one fastfood, please?" I suggested, failing to keep the annoyance out of my voice. I pulled out my phone and opened the food delivery app.
"Whatever. Girls!" She yelled so suddenly it made me flinch. "Uncle Miggy's here! Come say hi!" There was the sound of raucous shrieking, followed by hurried footsteps.
"Food will be here in 30 minutes tops." Ate opened the door to her room and stepped inside. "Come. Zip me up and tell me what you think about my little ensemble for tonight."
I huffed as I followed her, my eyes still glued to my phone. "Right behind you..."
I'm glad the traffic wasn't so heavy today, giving me enough time to prepare for tonight's big event. It's been a month since our last gig and right now, my nerves are a little frazzled. What if we screw up? Jesus H., we'd be the subject of gossip in the entire university. And then, nobody will ever hire us again!
Stop overthinking, Miguel! It's unfair on Elise. You know you guys have done your best!
I tried to shake it off and patted myself on the cheek.
Right. It's time to put my game face on.
Definition of Terms:
*Ate - Filipino term for an older sister, from the Fookien Chinese a-tsi, with the same meaning.
*Lolo - Commonly used Filipino word for grandfather.
*Lola - Commonly used Filipino word for grandmother.
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