MIGUEL
The day went by fairly quick. Mama arrived a few minutes before our food had arrived, and a string of complaints about fastfood being unhealthy for the girls, ensued. In the end, she finished most of the chicken nuggets and asked for a second cup of Coke.
Shortly after our late lunch, Mama and the girls helped me with cleaning my bedroom, while Ate volunteered to pick up the flower bouquets, giving me more time to loosen my nerves.
Before I knew it, it's 4 p.m. and I was still in the shower rinsing off the dust, sweat, and grime from this afternoon's activities. The party won't officially commence until 6:30, but I wouldn't risk getting stuck in traffic, given that it's Friday. Fortunately, luck was on my side and by 4:20 p.m., I made it to the university function hall without a hitch.
Elise's greeting to me was, "Oh my god, Miggy, I'm so glad you're finally here!" She looked positively panic-stricken and I immediately felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I kissed her cheeks and squeezed her elbows, hoping to calm her down. "What? What's wrong?"
She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath before releasing it slowly. "The catering service hasn't arrived yet. Del and her team. They're... they're still stuck somewhere in Commonwealth Ave."
My stomach twisted, and I could feel my heart pounding in my throat. Screw my luck. We're in deep trouble. "They're what? But I specifically instructed them to avoid the highways. I even sent Del a map of detours and shortcuts!"
"Miggy, she's from Makati. She's not familiar with the roads here," Elise said, her voice shaking.
I placed a hand on my forehead, a fresh wave of panic roiling inside me. I needed to calm down for both our sakes. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed Elise's hand and dragged us both to the function hall.
Most everything else seemed to be in its proper place. While there wasn't a strict dress code, this year's party was The Great Gatsby inspired, with black and gold as the color scheme. The impressive function hall had a high, vaulted ceiling that's now cloaked with black and gold draping, a Minky Lavery chandelier hanging down elegantly with thousands of crystals and transparent gems.
The east and west sides of the hall were covered with black and gold metallic foils, while the crystal Chiavari chairs and tables, where all the guests would be accommodated, were strategically spread out from the center of the hall. Later tonight, it'll be converted to a dance floor.
I felt a small sense of relief when I saw one of the highlights of the event. At the center of the hall, right underneath the chandelier, is the cake. Costing almost a hundred and fifty thousand pesos, the five-tier cake was a miniature replica of St. Aloysius University, complete with the statue of the saint in front of the main building, and the soccer field at the heart of the campus. It stood there majestically, a tower of ethereal layers of green, white, and brick-red fondant. The patissier, a lovely lady named Donna, was busy making finishing touches to the miniature soccer field. She's done a pretty stellar job, and I decided to leave her be.
The stage was at the north side of the hall, and a small crew of men were busy setting up and testing the lights and sound system. The bar area was next to the stage on the right side, with several cocktail tables and leather stools ready for anyone to drink and lounge. Against the side walls were buffet tables draped with heavy gold silk tablecloths with big, black bows on each end. And they're so achingly empty that the panic returned with a vengeance.
I needed to do something—anything—to keep my hands from shaking. I looked around and grabbed the nearest balloon arch.
"Miggy, what are you doing?" cried Elise.
"Ask Del to give you updates every five minutes, okay? " I ordered as I half carried and half pushed the arch across the floor to join one of the buffet tables.
Elise nodded wordlessly as she pulled out her phone from her pants and typed like a maniac. A couple of minutes later, she called out to me and said, "Okay, they're moving. She said they'll be here in 45 minutes, give or take."
I looked at my watch and then glanced up at my still visibly wound-up best friend, forcing a reassuring smile. "That's good. In the meantime, what do you think about checking the fireworks setup at the field? At least that's all been settled, right?"
Elise bit her lip and nodded, and I can see that some of the tension had left her body. "Yes. Mark and his team are just waiting for additional instructions from you, but they're pretty much all set."
"Thank god for that," I said as I approached her, wrapping her in a tight hug. "And Elise? You look stunning. I like the blazer and the bow tie—especially the bow tie. Very smart-chic. But, you need to retouch your lipstick." I ran a thumb over her slightly chapped lips, then gave her a pat on the shoulder. "Now ease up, okay? We're still right on schedule. Everything's going to be fine."
Elise relaxed into my embrace, nodding as she gave out a nervous chuckle. "You're not so bad yourself," she said, but when she gave my outfit a quick perusal, she scrunched up her nose in bemusement. "Though you could've made more effort with that shirt."
I rolled my eyes as I followed her to the back door area. "What? This pink shirt has done nothing to you and Ate to receive this much backlash!"
Elise snorted. "If Kate hates it, then you should really give it more consideration."
For now at least, the problem with the caterer had been forgotten.
Apparently, luck was still on my side. Del and her staff arrived before the clock struck 5, coming into the backdoor in full force. Del was barking instructions for her staff to change into their server's uniform, while the rest of the team carried in the trays with food.
With the sudden flurry of activity, I was in a daze for a minute. When Elise nudged me with her elbow, I tried to restore my focus and ran up to my caterer. Now is not the time to whine and complain. "Everything good, Del?"
"Miguel, Elise, I'm so sorry." She gave me and Elise an apologetic look. "We should've left Makati much earlier. I wasn't expecting the heavy traffic. This won't happen again, I swear."
I nodded wordlessly, trying to rein in my temper. She should've anticipated this. And I'm willing to bet that everyone—even those who aren't from Q.C.—knows just how nightmarish traffic can be around here, especially on Fridays.
"Do you need help with anything?" Elise offered, realizing that I have no intention to respond to her apology.
Del shook her head vehemently as she buttoned up her chef's uniform and put on an apron. "No, thank you. We'll take it from here. I'm just really sorry this happened."
"How much time do you need to prepare everything, Del?" I asked. "We need to wrap up and get things rolling before six. The guests will start coming in by then." Or God forbid, much earlier, because these are the sort of people who are severely allergic to Filipino Time*.
Del checked the time in her watch and patted her hip. "Yes, uhm, give us 30 minutes, tops. The wines are all being moved to the coolers as we speak. They'll be chilled enough to be served later."
Good, I can deal with that. Some people tend to be really discerning with their wine, from the brand and age, down to the temperature. "Thank you. And the food labels? Are they all set, too?"
I knew I wasn't about to like her answer when her mouth gaped open and closed like a fish out of water. I could practically see the cogs rolling in her mind right now, as she tried to rack her brain for any excuse that wouldn't have me committing manslaughter. "Uhm, the thing is... the thing is, Miguel, I swear I placed it in a box alongside the trays. But uhm, we were in such a rush and I...I might've misplaced it somewhere. O-or one of my staff did, and—"
I pursed my lips and raised my hand to stop her. This is so irresponsible on so many levels. "Do you or do you not have the food labels for tonight's menu, Del?" I asked as calmly as I could.
She looked like she was on the verge of tears, lips quivering and eyes shining. Jesus H., I don't need any more unnecessary drama right now. "I'm s-sorry. The thing is, I think I might've left it in the restaurant, back in Makati. We were in a hurry and...and I know it's not a good excuse, but..." She turned to Elise, her eyes pleading. "I swear it was an honest mistake."
Elise squeezed my arm gently as she stepped in front of me, blocking me from Del. "Listen. I'm sure we can find an alternative," she said, and her gaze shifted to me expectantly. "Do the labels matter, Miggy? I think we can do without them. It's no big deal."
"You and I know there's a very good reason they put labels on the food, Elise," I said between gritted teeth, fixing my glare on Del. "Some guests will want to know what they put in their mouth, especially those with allergies." Elise's eyes widened as the realization hit her. "I'm not keen on seeing anyone dying tonight because they ate ceviche when they're allergic to shellfish."
Del's cheeks flushed. "Yes...Yes, you're right about that." She wrung the corner of her apron, taking a sudden interest on the floor.
I let out a loud breath. But before I could say something I might later regret, Elise cut in and said, "Can't we just print them out? I think we still have time. The faculty office is just around the corner. I'm sure they have a printer stored somewhere."
It's a good idea, but I shook my head no. "We don't have enough time, Elise. We have to type them from scratch, not to mention we have to go through the entire menu and list down the dishes one-by-one. It's too much hassle for just one task."
Elise knew I have a point so she nodded in acquiescence. We stood there in a moment of tense silence, avoiding each other's gaze.
"What are you all standing there for? Did someone die?" a cheery female voice said from behind us. We all turned around to see my sister walking towards us, carrying several bouquets of flowers in her arms. Elise quickly went to help her, as she arched a questioning brow my way. "Is something the matter?"
"Elise, why don't you take the bouquets to the staff room? The flowers could use a bit of misting to keep them fresh," I suggested. "I'll take it from here."
"You sure?" My best friend gave me an odd look, as if wondering if I meant what I said. I nodded, sighing with resignation. She took off quickly with the flowers, seemingly relieved to be leaving this situation for what it was: An awkward mess.
Ate came around to stand beside me, eyes flicking to Del before settling on me. "What's going on?" I gave her a rundown of everything that's happened in the last hour, all while a red-faced and sweating Del listened through the whole spiel with her head down. Ate could only give her a look that's somewhere between pity and disappointment.
We've already wasted ten minutes just going through this debacle about food and labels. By the time I was done talking, I was ready to just go with the flow. I turned once more to Del. "Listen. Could you maybe just let the servers know the ingredients for the dishes they're in-charge with, in case the guests ask questions about the menu?" I have no better idea and quite frankly, this isn't supposed to be my problem. "Let them ask the guests if they have any known allergies, especially for those in-charge with dishes containing nuts, eggs, and shellfish."
Del could only nod. At this point, she was teary-eyed and obviously upset with herself, and a part of me hated that I made her feel that way. Then again, this couldn't have happened had she been more perceptive in the first place. She should have the foresight for things like this.
I dismissed her without another word, and Ate and I watched her as she scuttled off like a dog with its tail between its legs.
I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. "Ugh. She should've seen this coming. She should've double-checked everything. Kept a checklist," I muttered, more to myself. Beside me, my sister kept nodding and making a noise of assent. "She's supposed to be one of the best, Ate. So what's happening right now?" This is only the second time I've hired her company to team up with us and if they screw up again, this would probably be the last time I'll ever hire them.
Before I knew it, I was whining to my sister. I can't afford to risk screw-ups like this. Not on big events where hundreds of thousands of pesos—and our small business—are at stake. Sure, I may be able to get away with it now, because I know the clients personally, but what if I don't? What if they're not as understanding and lenient? The worst they can do is to rant about our "poor service quality" online —on social media!— where the whole world can see it. And then what?
Jesus H., I'm in way over my head again!
I shook my head, slapped myself on the cheeks and took a deep breath. When I finished my tirade, Ate wound an arm around my shoulders and gently urged me forward. "There, you let it all out. I hope you're feeling better." No, I wasn't, but I nodded anyway. "Now let me help you. What would you like me to do? As long as it doesn't involve running around in my three-inch heels, then I'm at your disposal."
I snorted, but managed to return her smile.
I wasn't kidding when I said these folks are allergic to Filipino Time. By 5:45 p.m., the guests started trickling in. Again, there wasn't a dress code, but when St. Aloysius students party, they go all out. Most of them came in wearing The Great Gatsby inspired outfits: High heels and elegant Flapper dresses with lace, sequins, and tassels for the ladies; and brogues and lounge suit for the men.
Waiters came out bringing wine glasses and started serving red and white, along with a plate of cheeses. By then, most of the main course and dessert were already in place, and I signaled the crew to switch on all the air conditioners and strobe lights.
This is it. The big moment.
My sister had just come back from checking up on Elise at the reception area, and I was signaling the sound team to start playing music, when a pale and wiry woman wearing a black-and-silver evening dress came up to me with a conspiratorial smile.
"Oh, but if it isn't Miguel Vargas! It's been forever since I've last seen you," she gushed as she gave me an air kiss on each side of my face. I risked a glance at my sister, hoping to God she knew this person. She reined in her laughter as she squealed and hugged the newcomer.
"Bianca, I'm so glad you made it!" Ate said as she broke the embrace and exchanged cheek kisses with the lady. "How was the trip from London? I heard they're planning to impose travel restrictions soon, what with that nasty virus."
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