Secret Shopper

by Tanya Taimanglo

  We all relaxed after Pharaoh invited Thomas to the extensive buffet for a tour. Mom grinned and my aunt thankfully left me alone. The four of us women kept our eyes on Thomas, who glanced back at us occasionally, offering his God-like smile. It was like a celebrity graced us with his presence. Rachel spoke first.

  “So, Nix. How you doing?” She laughed sounding like Joey from Friends.

  “I’m fine.” I leaned into Rachel and we spoke in whispers as soon as my mom started up a conversation with my aunt. Most likely talking about me and Thomas. “I won’t be banishing you to Coco’s Island anytime soon.”

  “Good. You and Thomas?” She wriggled her eyebrows rapidly looking like Groucho Marx minus the glasses, moustache and cigar.

  “Yes. Me and Thomas.” I giggled and fanned myself with a paper plate as if I was hot from desire. Rachel stared at Thomas in disbelief when I disclosed the tidbit about the Phoenix tattoo.

  “Wow. Wow! Now you’re the only one at this table who isn’t tatted. Even your mom and Imo have tattooed eyebrows!” We laughed and somehow Rachel planted a seed of inspiration in my mind.

  I wanted to be sure Pharaoh wasn’t scaring Thomas too much. Before I reached the table, my self-declared-sexy and single 45-year old Aunt Beverly and her single 30-year old daughter, Beverory took their opportunity to swoop in on me.

  “Hey, baby doll.” Aunt Beverly addressed me in this melodic way since I could remember. “Who’s that handsome haole man? Your cousin here would like to meet him again.”

  “Meet him again?” I was more curious than threatened. Aunt Beverly and her daughter were notorious for hitting on men. The pair could pass for sisters. They had curly brown hair down to their waistlines. They both wore an obscene amount of jewelry. Today, they wore similar flowing sheer black and white tops and inappropriate black miniskirts. Beverory, whose name was a combination of my aunt’s name and my cousin’s deceased father, Gregory, hit on Bradley often in the past ten years. She also took a stab at Pharaoh once. Yes, we were only fourth cousins in Beverory’s eyes, but that was still a relation to me.

  “She spoke to him in the church, nai. He said he was from California. He’s your friend, right?” I wanted to clamp my aunt’s mouth shut with my fingers. And why wasn’t my cousin speaking for herself? Oh, that’s right, she was hiding behind her mother ogling Thomas and drooling.

  “He’s actually, my,” and I turned to look at the love of my life to remind myself that I wasn’t dreaming. It was like Thomas read my mind and he gave me that wondrous smile. My aunt and cousin were witness to Thomas’s glory and I heard them sigh. “He’s my boyfriend.” I continued quickly, ignoring the shock and disbelief in their eyes. “But, my divorce with Bradley is finalized and he’s free. Oh, and Pharaoh can introduce you to his wrestling buddy, Ken.” I offered as I thought of the goonie who called the reporter.

  The shameless duo scanned the room for Bradley and made their way to seduct him, their word, not mine. I couldn’t suppress my smile as I floated back to Thomas.

  “Hungry, huh?” I whispered to Thomas as I pressed myself into his arm. He had a heaping plate of food, which was normal by Guam standards.

  “I took everything that Pharaoh said was mungi.” Thomas laughed melodically. “Have you seen the size of your brother’s arms? Maybe if I eat like him, I’ll bulk up too.”

  “No way, you’re perfect the way you are. Let’s top your meal off with a diet soda. Guam tradition.” I laughed and grabbed a napkin and fork. I decided to help Thomas eat his mountain of food.

  “Thomas, where you stay? How long you stay?” My mom shot questions at Thomas like she was a CNN reporter.

  “I’m at the Pacific Guam Resort and I’ll be here for about a week. Maybe longer.” Thomas stated between bites of ham and red rice. He had his free hand on my leg.

  “You stay at our house and save your money! Please.” Mom surprised me and everyone else at the table.

  “Oh, no, Mrs. Lizama. Thank you for the kind offer though.” I couldn’t see Thomas sleeping on the couch, but then my mom painted a more R rated picture.

  “There is a king size futon bed in Fee-nux old room, you two can fit!”

  “Mom!” Pharaoh and I screeched in unison. Rachel laughed loudly.

  Thomas coughed and his cheeks flushed. Mom finally dropped the subject when Imo said something to her in Korean. Thomas answered all my mom’s other questions graciously and got to talking about mixed martial arts with Pharaoh. I didn’t realize how much he was into it too. It was nice to see Thomas in this setting. All that was missing was my dad.

  My mom practically pushed me on Thomas when we left the church. She volunteered Thomas to drive me home or do whatever we wanted to. She was crushing on him pretty hard. We drove to my parents’ home and I was excited to show Thomas where I grew up, my humble beginnings. Everyone was exhausted, Thomas included, but the freshness of our declaration of love gave us wings for the rest of the day. I packed a change of clothes and my only bathing suit. Mom brought out a few photo albums from my childhood to keep Thomas occupied and to no doubt embarrass me. Thomas smiled warmly with his cup of black coffee and a large pile of Lizama family memories. Then, my mom dragged me to my old bedroom.

  “You love this man?” Mom was blunt and pushy as usual. I smiled at my mom and felt awkward that one moment we were burying my beloved father and by sunset we were discussing my love life with a new man.

  “I do, omma.” I typically called my mom omma--the Korean word for mother--when I was feeling especially affectionate for her.

  “Well, life short, and you a grown woman. Now, I don’t want to see you until tomorrow night for the rosary. And he’s so handsome.” I was shocked to say the least. Mom emphasized her message by pointing to me like I was a naughty daughter. We had seven more nights of rosaries, just for the immediate family. “You did so much for daddy. You need to relax now, araso? Understand?”

  I took the keys from Thomas after I hugged my mom again. Pharaoh and my aunt were knocked out cold from the stress of the day. Mom should be asleep soon after. I worried about her that night—but she reassured me that she would get to sleep fine.

  I held Thomas’s hand as I drove us from my village of Mangilao to Tumon. It would only take about twenty minutes, which I knew would be too quick. I wanted these little first moments to move like molasses, to stay sweet, and preserved in amber. Thomas seemed content looking from me to the beautiful greenery outside. “Your mom is great, you know. I can only imagine what your father was like.” Thomas stated thoughtfully.

  “He would have loved you.” I added. Thomas squeezed my hand tighter.

  He looked very tired and I suggested he take a power nap. He did, looking like a god. The bright lights of the touristy village were overwhelming and Thomas’s eyes popped open. Pacific Guam Resort was a fun place to be with waterslides and a great massage spa. I felt a twinge of guilt as I stepped into the large open air lobby, thinking this was not exactly how I envisioned mourning my father.

  We walked hand in hand and headed for the elevators. We kept in time with the rhythm of the rolling suitcase. Thomas hit the button for the 25 floor. The premium rooms were there I knew since Bradley had a stint here years ago as a resortmate.

  When Thomas opened his door, he let me in first like the gentleman he was. The Royal Club Suite was vast and elegantly decorated. The strong scent of plumeria surrounded me. I waited by the door as Thomas brought my pink duffle bag in. He laid it on the king size bed and returned to the living room.

  “Why are you just standing there?” He sounded amused. I removed my shoes like any good island girl would and stepped tentatively forward. Thomas’s wide grin told me that his power nap gave him a boost of energy. It felt electric in the room.

  “Great accommodations,” I teased. “I’m impressed.” I wondered how he afforded the suite.

  “Well, don’t be. It was a gift from my sister. She paid for my air fare and room for the week.” He ran his long fingers throu
gh his hair. “She’s just trying to spoil me after all the guilt she had over dad. She’s been doing that for the past five years, remember? My Prius was my college graduation gift.”

  I made my way to the balcony and enjoyed the view of the glassy ocean. The sun was setting and the warm breeze felt refreshing. Nerves caused my pulse to pound loudly in my ear. I thought about being here alone, divorced, single and hungry for Thomas. Time seemed to move so slowly before that point and my head was still spinning from the last six months. It was like I was brought to this moment at warp speed.

  The setting sun blazed over the blue waters, the beauty sent shivers up my back. I felt underdressed in my black tank top and cargo shorts for such a wonderful milestone in our relationship.

  Thomas excused himself to the bathroom and I remained anchored to the balcony, my nerves settled by the orange wash of sunset. I made a quick call to Rachel. She was ecstatic for me, making a vulgar comment about finally getting “sumthing, sumthing.” She wanted me to call her with details as soon as I woke up the next morning.

  My dad’s smiling face danced into my memories. I gripped my phone and worry made me call home. My mom sounded surprised to hear from me. After she reassured me that she was okay, she told me to have a nice time. She made Thomas’s presence easy. A good cry later with her, Thomas appeared. He reached around from behind me and gave me a hug. When he kissed my cheek and tasted my tears, he braced my hips and turned me around.

  “You okay, Phoenix?” He was wonderfully concerned.

  “Yeah,” I tried to laugh it off. “I was just thinking about my dad, had a quick talk with my mom.”

  Thomas’s solid, long arms entangled me into his body. The smell of the soap on his skin was calming. We spent several minutes kissing and it was as phenomenal as the first time.

  “What did you want to do for dinner?” I asked trying to dampen the flames that were erupting around us. Thomas’s eyes looked dreamily at me. His smile grew and it felt like his body was humming happily. He kept me close to him and a billion butterflies played bumper cars in my stomach. He placed his hands on my hair and swept it off my face. Thomas looked like he stepped out of a J Crew catalog. His white unbuttoned shirt flowed beautifully in the wind twenty five stories above ground. My fear that he was just a mirage and would evaporate into the sky resurfaced. He seemed so relaxed in his khaki shorts. His hair, still damp, danced playfully on his head with each island breeze. Thomas’s mind was not on food, I could detect as he kept his hands firm on my hips. I broke his intense gaze, lingered on his beautiful smile and opened his shirt to see the tattoo, glistening from the fresh coat of salve.

  “I can’t believe we’re here together, Phoenix.” He kissed me lightly. “I love you so much.” I began kissing his chest, delicately placing pecks around the fiery bird. My hands felt the contours of his firm chest.

  “You know, you’re crazy for getting this bird on your chest.” I joked, again trying to delay what was inevitably going to happen tonight. Bradley only wanted me this bad after he broke my heart, I thought. I was nervous and uncomfortable. I didn’t have the bedroom experience Thomas apparently had. I only had misadventures with Bradley. How would I stack up to all the women Thomas had been with?

  “Am I?” Thomas sounded like I just grabbed his leg to keep him from floating off into space. He knew what I was doing and he took a half step back to look at me.

  “Well, it’s pretty extreme. It’s permanent. It’s so,” Why was I trying to downplay his gesture of love? Oh, yeah, I was an idiot.

  “Phoenix. Do you see any other tattoos on me?” There was an undercurrent of anger and impatience in his voice. “I hate needles. I got this because I love you for one thing. And, you’ve inspired me to write again. It is permanent, but what I feel for you is permanent. It’s not just a ring you can take off when the relationship is done.” Okay, I pushed him too far. I felt like I was just jabbed in the stomach. I deserved that. Thomas released me and stalked into the bedroom. Feeling like a jerk, I sunk into the lone plush chair in the living room. His absence sucked all the oxygen out of the room. He returned bearing two gifts. One small box wrapped in green foil and a white bow and one large box wrapped in red with a yellow bow.

  “Phoenix. Please open these and let me know when you finally get it. I’ll be taking another power nap. Open the smaller gift first. Please.” He sounded exhausted, probably more from my wavering than jet lag. He kissed the top of my head and went to the bedroom. He shut the door and I sat there for a few minutes trying to realize the depths of my stupidity. The pressure of his kiss fading too soon.

  Chapter 19

  My Tongue is in a Celtic Knot

  Thomas’s gentle snoring told me it was safe to move again. I peeked into the bedroom. I yearned to lie next to him, be near his beauty and the exhaustion of the day threatened my own consciousness.

  The two sparkling packages from Thomas drew my attention. I knelt by the coffee table. I opened the smaller package as instructed by Thomas. A book. Grimm Brothers: The Frog Prince. I didn’t know how this could be of any connection to me, or Thomas or what we felt for each other. I knew the general storyline of the fable. I read the children’s book and tried to uncover the reason Thomas would give it to me. It was evident by the end.

  I was the reluctant princess who went back on her promise to the frog, Thomas. He knew our situation well.

  The king forced his daughter to uphold her promise to the frog, who had retrieved her golden ball. According to the agreement, the princess had to let the frog eat off her plate and sleep in her bed. The frog’s true state would be revealed. He was a prince. To say this was yet another light bulb moment in my dim comprehension of my feelings for Thomas would be an understatement. I simmered in my thoughts for awhile, then tiptoed to the bedroom to see Thomas in a deep sleep, his eyebrows still furrowed. I hope he wasn’t having a nightmare about me, the reluctant lover.

  I opened the second package. It was Thomas’s screenplay. It looked to be about a hundred pages. I ceremoniously turned the first crisp page. It was entitled, “Firestorm.” At first glance, I thought that it might have been about firefighters. Thomas never shared the storyline, and I wondered if he was hurt that I never asked. But as I read the first scene and dialogue it was apparent it was about Thomas and me, well more like Toby and Phoebe. I didn’t realize I was the subject of Thomas’s screenplay. A feeling of honor mingled with fear in me and it left a sour taste in my mouth. I buckled down to read.

  I found myself at the edge of my chair. I finished reading the established scenes and dialogue. It ended at page 86. Toby stands in front of Phoebe bared with a fiery red phoenix emblazoned on his chest. It didn’t read like a romantic comedy, but a tragic love story. I was the clueless princess in the storyline--flawed because of my hesitation to open my heart.

  The incomplete screenplay was confirmed as the last page read, “TO BE CONTINUED.”

  It was almost nine in the evening. I knew what I needed to do, what I had to do and I called Pharaoh. I needed to get something accomplished tonight. I needed to stop being the stupid girl in the screenplay about to lose the best man in the world. I had to create the proper ending.

  “Hello?” Pharaoh’s gravelly voice was draped in sleep.

  “Hey, Pharaoh. I need a favor tonight.” I heard him groan.

  “Tonight?” He whined.

  “I want a tattoo. Call your godbrother, Christian. I don’t care what he’s doing. I have to get this tonight.” The shock of my announcement woke Pharaoh up quick and within the hour, I met him in Hagåtña. I was suddenly on my back, staring at pictures of gorgeous tattooed pin up girls taped to the ceiling. Christian prepped the skin on my hip.

  I left Thomas asleep and unaware. I knew his jet lag and the stress of my emotional rollercoaster ride taxed him enough that he would be out until sunrise.

  The scar on my hip was a three inch s-shape, not as raised and angry as before. I asked Christian to pull up a Celtic knot on-line to
match the one I had memorized from Tamara’s movie cover. Christian printed up a black inked copy. He sized it to five by five inches and was able to match the curves of the knot to my scar.

  “Phoenix, are you sure about this?” Pharaoh asked, concerned. “What is up with the Celtic knot? We’re not Scottish.”

  “It’s Irish. Crack open a history book sometime.” I joked.

  “Whatever. Why did you have to get this tonight?”

  “Sorry I disturbed your sleep, brother. But did you know Thomas got a tat a few days ago? A phoenix. For me.” I let that sink in. Pharaoh was intrigued. He wanted the scoop about Thomas and me. I spared no detail, starting from my humble beginnings as a field agent secret shopper to the karaoke missions and Thomas’s Guam admiration. It was nice to share all this with my wide eyed brother. I never spoke to him about Bradley with such honesty. After I filled him in on our beginnings to the present, Pharaoh impressed with Thomas, finally understood the meaning of this one tattoo I was allowing myself.

  “Pretty deep, sis. I love the guy already. Of course, in a future-brother-in-law kind of way.” Pharaoh clarified. It was nice to have him on my side with this. He vowed not to tell mom about my tattoo. The process was not as painful as I expected, but then again, I was stabbed in the hip. Christian was a true professional, gingerly handling the area around my battle wound. An hour later, I received my first tattoo. I gazed at my hip with confidence and certainty. It was my ultimate declaration of love for Thomas.

  Christian had another customer waiting and he allowed me to use his computer to type something up. I wanted to create an ending scenario for Thomas’s screenplay. It took me an hour to gather my thoughts. I didn’t know typical screenplay formatting, but I was sure Thomas wouldn’t hold it against me. I created a scenario that would do the story justice.