“Hey, isn’t that the street Barrio XO’s on?” Julia points out the side window.
“I don’t want to see what Johnny’s done,” I moan, my face in my hands.
“Johnny?” My father says. “He sold that restaurant a while back. Heard he took quite a shaving off the price.”
The limo turns down a one-way street and pulls around the corner of Barrio XO. My heart thunders in my chest when it stops in front of our restaurant.
“It’s Barrio XO,” Brian says. “But what did they do to it?”
It’s same, but different. Instead of the plain glass storefront we had, it now has high, floor-to-ceiling windows underneath Spanish arches and Roman columns. Bamboo shades partially cover the windows, and planters full of colorful crotons with purplish-red and orange trimmed leaves line the exterior.
A covered walkway with a black awning leads into the entrance which proudly proclaims the name Barrio XO in an aggressive gold-colored brush script.
Julia points to the wrought iron trimming around the windows. “It’s beautiful, reminds me of my family’s hacienda back home.”
A waiter opens the door and invites us in. Mama and Papa clutch each other, emotion written over their faces. Again, it’s the same, but different. The patio has been updated around a central outdoor fireplace.
Chef Mendoza greets us. He bows partway. “It’s nice to meet you again, Mr. Sánchez, and this must be your gorgeous wife.”
“Yes, Anna, meet Enrique,” my father says. “My daughter Choco, son Brian, and niece Julia.”
He takes my hand and pats it. “Ah, the lovely Concha. I’ve heard so much about you. We’re delighted to have you as the guests of honor at the new Barrio XO.”
“You kept the name,” I say dumbly.
“Yes, it has a great reputation, and the owner didn’t want to squander that. I’ll show you around before the grand opening.” He gestures toward where the bangus room used to be.
The floor plan is opened up. Gone are the dividers that made the room smaller. The aquarium is replaced by a koi pond, and the booths are gone. Instead, round tables, large and small, fill the room to allow families to easily share food, Chinese restaurant style.
“We love it,” Mama says. “The room looks bigger.”
“Yes, this is a more efficient use of space. We can also rearrange tables as needed for banquets.” Chef Mendoza waves. “Come see the videoke room. Prepare to be amazed.”
He’s right. My jaw drops to the ground. Large screen TVs hover over the bar, one facing each of three directions. Plush red chairs are set against a white background. Long stemmed lighting hang from the ceiling, and there’s a modernistic gleam in the perfect blend of glass and steel.
A wooden two-step stage is set in one corner with two- seater pub tables arranged around it.
“You’ll understand why I can’t give you a tour of the kitchen right now.” Chef Mendoza leads us to a table near the stage. “The chefs are in the middle of preparing that fine dinner your daughter designed. Please, have a seat.”
He waves at a waiter who immediately offers us drinks.
“Are you happy with the changes?” Mama asks Papa.
He shrugs. “They did a great job. I wish them the best of luck.”
“Oh, come on, Papa, admit you’re jealous,” I tease him. “It makes me kind of sad though, because it’s no longer our restaurant.”
“Yes, but be glad it lives on. I wonder what their regular menu is like,” Mama says.
The doors open, and the other guests arrive. The first to step in are our old customers from the Sunshine Retirement Center. Tita Clare and Tita Grace lead the charge.
“Choco! How good to see you.”
“You’re looking so gorgeous.”
“Congratulations on winning the prize.”
“I always knew you could cook.”
They speak to my abdomen, no doubt computing in their minds how far along I am. I suck in my belly and gesture to the tables. “Thanks for coming. I’m so glad to see all of you again.”
“We wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Mr. Dee takes off his hat and winks. He and the other men help the women into their chairs. One of them pulls out a bandurria, a Filipino mandolin, and soon they are singing old folk songs.
I’m busy going around the table and greeting every senior saint when Julia exclaims, “There’s Kevin and Livy.”
“Over here.” She waves at them and points to our table. “We have room here.”
“Choco!” Livy says, running toward me. She opens her arms wide for a hug. “Daddy’s not mad anymore. He doesn’t want me to be sad.”
I hug her tightly. “I missed you so much, and I’m sorry.”
“I know,” she says. “I read the note you left. I was there, on the other side of the door. Daddy said if I answered, he’d send me to the Philippines to live with Lolo and Lola.”
She’s referring to her grandparents, Julia’s parents.
Tears threaten, and I hastily dab my eyes with a folded tissue. “This is the happiest day of my life. Can we see each other now? Spend time together?”
Kevin pulls a chair for Livy and sits next to her. “I’ll be willing to share custody. I’d rather not go to court and fight.”
“I’ll still get my parental rights back, but you’re right. I don’t want to fight. I want what’s best for Livy.”
“So do I,” Kevin says. “Livy’s got tons of questions, and I can never answer them.”
Livy taps me. “For starters, who’s my father? I hope it’s Carlos.”
Everyone around the table stares at us. That’s when I notice Gloria sitting beside my mother. She must have arrived separately while we were touring the restaurant.
I take Livy’s hand and press it. “I didn’t even know Carlos back then.”
She bows her head. “So who is he?”
“No one you need to worry about. You have Kevin. He’s the only father you need.”
“I still want to know.”
“I’ll whisper it to you, then.” I bend my mouth to her ear. “His name is Jack Jewell, and he’s leading adventure tours in the jungles of Borneo.”
At least that’s what Julia tells me, thanks to her stalking of Steve. I use Johnny’s real name, Jack Jewell, since it’s only fair for Livy to know the truth about her heritage.
“Does he know about me?” Livy’s eyes are watery.
“He does now, but your father told him to stay away until you’re eighteen.”
“I’m okay with that. I have you and Dad.” Livy loops her arm around me and her other one around Kevin’s elbow.
Brian comes around the table and taps Livy on the arm. “Hey, sis, how about a hug?”
She lets go of us and jumps into his embrace. “Not sister, dummy. I’m your niece. Don’t you feel old?”
# # #
Dinner’s my wildest dreams come true. Every dish is cooked to perfection, better than I made them at home.
“It’s because they have restaurant quality equipment,” Papa explains. “They must have a state-of-the-art kitchen. I can’t wait to see it.”
“Judging from the crowd, I’d have to say this is a big success,” Mama says.
“Yes, I’m glad, but sad and envious.” I bite my lips. “Everything, from the way they decorated, to the detail with which they arranged the food on the plates, the taste, everything’s authentic, perfect. We could have had all of this.”
“I wish Carlos would have gone along with the plan,” Papa says. “But things change, and you have to move away from people who can’t move forward.”
If only Papa would quit bringing him up. Of course, it’s not Papa’s fault my every thought is on Carlos. Everything about this place, even redecorated, reminds me of the dreams Carlos and I had, of how we’d do our restaurant, together.
I fan myself with the dessert card and excuse myself to visit the women’s room. Again, I can’t get over the luxury, from the marble sinks to the curly maple panels on the d
oors. Art deco lights decorate the sconces between the mirrors, and the toilets and faucets are automatic, sensing heat.
On my way back to the table, Chef Mendoza pulls me aside. “Please excuse me for the rest of the evening. I have to be going, but my assistant will take over. He’ll take you around the tables to greet the customers and give you a chance to talk to them about your food choices.”
“Oh, sure, thanks. I’ve always been a fan of yours.” I know I’m gushing, but my emotions are heightened by a blend of nostalgia and excitement.
He kisses my cheek. “It’s been great knowing you and your family. You have a promising future in the food business.”
I’m not certain how he can be so sure, but I thank him and return to my table. The last course is being removed, and the servers are taking dessert orders.
“I’m having your key lime buko pie,” Julia says.
Everyone at the table agrees, but me. “I’ve improved on the chocolate rice pudding, the champorado. Instead of rice and condensed milk, I use chia seeds and almond milk, mixing it with cacao crumbs. It’s spiced with cayenne and topped with shavings of Lady Godiva dark chocolate. That’s what I want.”
Minutes later, the open face buko pie topped with a key lime meringue appears. It seems the servers have forgotten my champorado. Everyone waits, and Livy offers me a piece of her pie, but I tell them to go ahead and eat.
A server finally leans over me and places my dessert in front of me. It’s in a crystal cup, with a cream heart swirled on top. A mint leaf floats in the center of the heart with a diamond ring on top.
“Carlos!” I clasp my hands in front of me, barely able to take my next breath.
He’s here. Handsome and larger than life, in a white chef’s outfit with the tall hat, instead of the old black bandana. My entire body melts and happiness floods my veins. Today couldn’t get any better.
He receives a standing ovation from the guests. Mr. Dee and the Sunshine Seniors cheer loudly, “Carlos, Carlos, he’s our cook. Speech, speech.”
“Thank you, thank you,” Carlos acknowledges them. He takes my hand. “Welcome to Barrio XO. Many, many thanks for all your investment and support. Together, we at Barrio XO are determined to bring healthy Filipino food to all of San Diego. And now, if you’ll let me have a moment with my dearest friend …”
“Woohoo! Yay!” Cheers and applause surround us. My face heats and tingles dance from my fingers to my heart.
Carlos bends on one knee. Everyone quiets down, and I wait with bated breath.
He holds the crystal cup with the ring in front of me. “Concepción Madalena Apostol Sánchez. I’m ready to marry you, if you’ll have me. Will you?”
“I’m not sure.”
He startles, his mouth open. “Why?”
“Things changed.” Taking his hand, I place it on my belly. “I come with baggage now, a plus one.”
His eyes take on that dreamy look, and he slowly leans forward and kisses my belly. “The most precious of all.”
“Did you know?”
“I was planning to come back before Julia told me.” His smile dimples his cheeks. He turns his face toward the long-stemmed lighting. “I also have a confession.”
“What, what do you mean?”
“Barrio XO comes with the deal.” His eyes glisten as the baby leaps under his fingers. “I think he or she approves.”
“You own this place?”
He removes the ring from the mint leaf and slips it on my finger. “Before I answer that, will you marry me?”
“Yes, I will.” I spoon a dollop of champorado into his mouth and when we kiss, it’s bitter and sweet, and everything in between.
Epilogue
“Hey, batter, batter,” Carlos jeers on the sidelines.
I shake my first and stick out my tongue.
He raises our son Benny over his shoulders. “Watch Mommy get her first hit.”
Behind me, the Barrio Barracudas, our team of cooks, busboys, and servers cheer, “Choke, Choke, Choke.”
Yeah, it’s my nickname. Ever since Benny started to talk, he’s been calling me Choke instead of Mama or Choco. Just great. Now the fans in the bleachers stand and everyone’s yelling, “Choke, Choke, Choke.”
I tap my shoes with the bat, pretend to spit, shrug my shoulders and chew on nonexistent gum. I’m a ham. I put on a show. Oh, add that butt wiggle. Ha, ha, bet no major leaguer ever does that.
Across from me Johnny Dee, or actually Jack Jewell, as he prefers to be called now, glares at me from the pitcher’s mound.
He stretches and throws his arm around for a fast softball pitch. I reach for it, swinging hard.
“Str-rike one!” the umpire growls.
Runners are on all bases. We’re down three to zero and I’m the last out before happy hour at the Hangout.
“Choke, Choke, Choke,” the cheers, or are they jeers whistle in the wind.
Benny’s on top of Carlos’s shoulder clapping his fat little hands. Next to him, Tita Gloria fans herself under her ever present parasol. I’m a López now. I have to hit one for Team López, get the win for Barrio XO.
Johnny, er, Jack, smirks. He tips his cap and blows on his hands, pretending to spit on the ball. His team, the Resourceful Rhinos, is filled with rugged outdoors types. Burly adventure guides, lean river rafters and climbers, big game photographers, manly men, all over six feet tall.
I get into my miniature batting stance feeling like a David against nine Goliaths.
The pitch comes, but not quite to me. I clench my teeth and check my swing.
“Ball.”
Whew. Glad I didn’t reach for that one. Let the ball come to you. That’s what Carlos says.
The next pitch is fat and slow. I can get it. I can. I swing and hear a thud, right into the catcher’s mitt.
“Strike.”
Great. Just great. I’m at two strikes with two outs. I step from the batter’s box and kick the dirt. My father claps me on the back. “Good things come in small packages, now hit it out of the park. Go get them.”
He turns and kisses my mom, bending her backwards. Those two! Still in love.
I blow Carlos a kiss and take some practice swings, then step into the batter’s box.
“Bring it on,” I yell at Johnny. “Hit me hard. Let me see what you got.”
He shakes his head, smiling, as if he’s going to serve me another one, slow and easy.
“Remember the dumpster, Johnny. Barrio Dumps.”
Ha, got him. His face hardens, and he narrows his eyes. Winding up, he whips his arm around.
Just like love. Let it come, don’t reach for it. The ball, a blur shoots at me.
Bam! I hear the crack before I feel it. Where did the ball go? I run toward first base as fast as I can, but all heads are turned toward the outfield. Livy stands in the bleachers. She raises her glove and catches the ball.
“A grand slam home run,” Carlos yells. “Barrio XO wins!”
“Choke, Choke, Choke.” My son’s voice echoes.
I round the bases, shaking my fists and swinging up my arms. I cross home plate. Yes! My big moment of glory.
Carlos hands Benny to Tita Gloria and sets me on his shoulders for the victory lap. Everyone crowds around, slapping my hand and jumping up and down.
My teammates throw confetti, and Livy’s in the stands hugging my game winning ball.
I’m grateful and awed, because for once in my life, I have everything I’ve always wanted.
THE END
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Barrio XO Matcha Calamansi Muffins
Makes 12 muffins.
Ingredients:
1/2 cup butter; softened
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
1-1/2 cup all purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 Tbsp organic matcha powder
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 cup milk
1/4 cup freshly squeezed calamansi juice; or lime juice
1. Mix milk and calamansi together. Don’t worry if it curdles. Set aside.
2. Sift dry ingredients (flour, baking powder, matcha powder, salt) together
3. Cream butter and sugar for 2-3 minutes.
4. Add eggs one at a time, mixing well after every addition.
5. Add milk mixture and flour mixture into the creamed butter mix.
6. Mix until well blended, taking care not to overmix.
7. Spoon into a nonstick muffin pan (the 12 cup kind).
8. Bake in a preheated 375-degree oven for 20-23 minutes or until muffins test done.
Note: these muffins come out a delightful light-green color. If you want more matcha taste, increase the amount of matcha powder to 2 Tbsp.
Glossary
Family and Relationship Terms
Anak – child, term of endearment
Ate – eldest sister, can refer to a friend, usually by tagging their name, or any elder sister
Barkada – friendship group, clique
Kuya – eldest brother, can refer to a friend, usually by tagging their name, or any elder brother
Mano-po – greeting performed as a sign of respect for elders. The elder’s hand is pressed, knuckles first, to the forehead of the younger and a blessing is given.
Lolo – grandfather
Lola – grandmother
Manang – older sister, or friend who takes on role of older sister
Claiming Carlos Page 31