by Thessa Lim
“I just realized that if you jump into the water, I’d have to walk by myself all the way down. Didn’t think this through.” She gritted her teeth as she saw how far the waterfall was jutting down.
“Then you’re going to have to jump with me.” He started toward her with a smirk on his face.
“No, no. I’m not going with you. I’m—”
“What? The little mermaid is scared of the water?”
“It’s not the water I’m scared of. It’s the falling part.” She shook her head when he moved toward her. “Oh no, no. None of those pulling other people down with you, like when we were kids.”
Her eyes widened when he pulled her close to his chest. He tucked the hair that fell on her face behind her ears and tugged gently at her ponytail. Her eyebrows were drawn together, her lips stretched, and she struggled to break his hold.
“Tony, don’t you dare. We’re not kids anymore.”
“Yes, we definitely aren’t kids anymore.” He grinned at her. “Before the hour is over, you’ll be jumping down there yourself.”
“O-okay. Good luck with that then.” Her voice shook as she took in how close they were to each other.
Suddenly, his face softened, and his hold loosened. “Your eyes . . . they . . .”
Before she could think of getting away or what he was talking about, he laid his lips on hers. She froze. When he continued to kiss her lips over and over again, she relaxed and held on to his chest. He stopped, then smiled at her heavy-lidded eyes.
“Did y-you like that?” he asked, breathing unsteadily.
She trembled. It was the first time someone had kissed her that way. “Y-yes.”
He stared at her for a while, brushing a finger along her jawline. Then he leaned down toward her ear and whispered, “Imagine that you’re by a beautiful wall reef. Budding, colorful. You’ve spotted a shoal of silver jacks ten meters below.”
Her breath caught in her throat when his breath brushed against her neck.
“Are you imagining them?” He looked at her face.
She studied his eyes.
Dark brown. Beautiful.
“Yes. Yes, I am.”
“Imagine ten meters farther down.” He held her by the hands. “Would you go? Would you dive deeper?”
Laine nodded. “I would.”
“Imagine I’m holding you. I’m right beside you, and I’m not letting you go.” He squeezed her hands. “Would you dive with me now?”
“Y-yes,” Laine stuttered.
“Then close your eyes.”
Laine’s head snapped up at him.
“Hold your breath once you reach the water. I won’t let go.”
He pulled her closer and tightened his grip on her waist. There was no turning back now. She hugged his chest and wrapped her legs around him with viselike strength. She kept her eyes and mouth shut as she felt them both fall down the cliff.
After a beat, they splashed into the water. She felt the two of them plunge down the cold depth. She let go and swam up. Before she knew it, her head bobbed up and down the surface of the water. Tony whooped, splashing the water and grinning from ear to ear.
Her heart hammered against her chest, and she floated on her back to calm down. She marveled at the waterfall cascading down, the birds flying around the cliff, the fresh air. Only a few other tourists were around.
“Laine . . .” He peered at her.
She closed her eyes and hummed, ignoring him. Her nostrils flared, her fists were clenched, but her heart was racing to a different beat.
Suddenly, he hauled her out of the water, hoisted her over his shoulder, and waded to the shore. Her eyes burst open, and she yelled at him.
“Put me down! You . . . you just made me do one of the scariest things ever!”
When they reached the shore, he put her feet back on the ground. He cupped her face; his hand crept up the back of her neck, trembling as it went. He kissed her.
She closed her eyes as everything around her became hazy. She let him take the lead, kissing back when she felt it must be right. Her heart beat wildly; she could not catch her breath. When she splayed her hands across his chest, she felt his heart beating just as madly. When her legs wobbled and she hung on to him, he broke the kiss and rested his forehead on hers.
“How can you still make me feel like this? After all these years.”
“What?”
“Let’s go home. It’s getting dark, and your mother might get worried.”
He pulled her to his side and slid his arm around her shoulders. They walked back to the car and dried up.
She did not speak as they drove back to the city. Every time he asked her to talk to him, she shook her head, waving his question away. Her heart had not slowed down, her body burned, and her cheeks flushed. Something in her belly, she could not comprehend it, stirred. She could not put a finger on it nor a lid, but she knew it was due to him.
Suddenly her stomach grumbled, and her garbled thoughts went away.
Tony scolded himself. “I’ll text Tita and tell her we’ll eat out before going home.”
They stopped at an outdoor barbecue just outside the city. When they sat down opposite each other to wait for their order, Laine scanned the menu. Tony picked her hand up.
“Laine, I’m sorry. I thought it’d be fun to jump down the waterfall together.”
“It was,” she managed to blurt out but still avoided his gaze.
“Then why aren’t you talking to me?”
She took her time answering. “You kissed me, and I don’t know what to think about it.”
She hummed and stared out at the open sky.
Take another leap, Laine. Take it with this man.
She shook her head.
No, he’s not like the sea, not like an adventure. He’s a mystery.
“You didn’t like it,” he suggested.
She shook her head.
“Was I being brash?”
She assessed that for a while and decided that Anne’s and Zara’s past boyfriends were more forward on occasion than Tony had been.
“I’ve never been kissed that way before.”
With his suspicions confirmed, his lips broke out in a smile. “Did you like it?”
She was all nerves now and felt like such a prude.
It was just a kiss!
She peered at him and nodded honestly. Tony’s smile widened, but his hand trembled. He stood up and slid next to her on the bench. He pulled her closer and lifted her chin up to him.
“I won’t press for more than that.”
He kissed her again. Laine felt her cheeks burn as she tried to kiss him back. She imagined people at the eatery staring at them as they would at any provincial setting. She hoped they would just think they were tourists passing through their beautiful town.
The next morning, Tony escorted Laine to church. Vivian always went to the early dawn mass on Sundays. Laine usually never woke up as early and often went to church by herself when in Bohol. When she found out that Tony was picking her up, she changed out of the black wrap dress she wore and put on a purple beach dress decorated with white and red swirls. When they arrived at the mass hall, Tony took her hand and led her to sit at the front pews.
At noon, Evelyn joined them at Laine’s house for lunch.
“Tony, my kumare[15] Nadia called me,” Evelyn started. “She complained that she saw you at church today wearing shorts. You should know better. We’re not in the U.S., you know.” Evelyn shook her head as she stirred her glass of iced tea. “She gave me a long talk about modesty inside the church.”
Tony’s mouth hung open. “What? I always wear shorts at church, and I’ve never been criticized before.”
Laine snorted and gave him an I-told-you-so look.
“This is the Philippines. It’s a very close-knit community here. Everybody knows everybody. And . . . she complained that you were all over Laine at church.”
She raised her eyebrows at her son while watching Laine f
rom the side of her eyes. Laine’s ears turned beet red. She suddenly became very intrigued by the pitcher on the table. She inched the pitcher in front of her so that Vivian and Evelyn could not see her face.
Tony’s jaw dropped. “All over Laine? I didn’t realize having my arm around her shoulders is considered being all over her. I was being very respectful.”
Seeing Laine’s state of red, Evelyn smiled and conceded.
Vivian chirped in, “Maybe she was jealous he didn’t have his arms around Mara.”
Laine choked and gave a small squeal behind the pitcher. Tony began to laugh at her, and she swatted him.
“This is the most awkward lunch,” she grumbled.
Early the next morning, Tony took Laine to the airport for her flight back to Manila.
“Enjoy the rest of your stay here.” She smiled up at him as she was about to enter the departure area.
She had learned from Anne that for some men, sometimes a kiss was just a kiss. Tony had not volunteered to keep in touch; he did not say he would. She assumed it was just a summer flirtation for him.
He wiggled his mobile in front of her and said, “Got your number. Have a safe trip, okay?”
She nodded and walked away. Romantically, this had been her best vacation, but now she just might have to forget him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jazmine and the Intersection
Jazmine primped Liam up as much as she could. She put on him a blue-collared shirt with a light blue whale-print bib and the khaki pants she bought the other day just for Fiona’s visit. She set up his bouncer on the table by the couch so that she could place Liam there while she and Fiona talked.
Early that morning, Jazmine had stood by Liam’s crib for fifteen minutes, watching him and wondering if she was doing the right thing by letting Fiona come into his life.
“I love you, baby. Even though Daddy isn’t around, Mommy loves you just as much as two parents do together, okay?” she whispered to him. “And Mommy will work hard to give you everything two parents can give, okay? So don’t worry about a thing. Mommy will take care of you.”
She could still cancel the visit if she wanted to. But the best and worst scenarios running through her mind made her tired. She would give the relationship a try. She could change her mind later.
The bell rang. Jazmine took a deep breath and opened the door. Fiona stood there, donning a cropped do and dressed in a white sleeveless blouse with a lace yoke, cream tailored trousers, and nude pumps. Her face was made up—wine-colored lipstick, taupe eyeshadow, and eyeliner—and a pair of pearl earrings adorned her ears. Meanwhile, her slender hands clutched a branded mocha leather handbag.
Jazmine gulped. She had only the last of her clean nursing tops, an unfussy teal pull-down short-sleeve shirt, and stretchy shorts to wear that afternoon.
“Hi, Tita,” Jazmine greeted. She winced when her voice squeaked. Her hand brushed over her hair and down her ponytail, tidying loose strands and tucking hair behind her ears. “Please come in.”
“Hi, Jazmine.” Fiona’s slim lips smiled, and she leaned forward.
We’re going to beso?[16]
Jazmine held her breath as their cheeks collided, once on her right cheek and again on her left.
This is so awkward.
Jazmine led the older woman into the apartment. Fiona’s heels tapped on the floor as she entered.
I hope she doesn’t mind my apartment. Her first time here, and it must smell like milk and spit-up. And possibly baby poop. Maybe her citrusy perfume will camouflage any odors there might be.
Fiona looked around the living room, pausing as her gaze landed on the sheer beige cotton curtains and, again, on the faux-leather couch set. When her eyes landed on the baby in the middle of the living room, she took a deep breath.
“Is that . . .”
“This is Liam.” Jazmine gestured with a wave of her hand.
Fiona walked to the bouncer, reached in, and gingerly touched Liam by the sides. Liam stared up at her and then returned to fiddling with his plush owl hang toy.
Is she crying? Oh God, she’s tearing up.
Fiona looked up at Jazmine and in a low tone breathed, “He looks just like Braden when he was a baby.”
Jazmine stiffened, and she forgot to take a breath.
No. No, he doesn’t. He’s mine.
Calm down. She’s here to help.
“I’m sorry.” Fiona frowned. Her lips thinned. “I probably shouldn’t have said that.”
Jazmine merely nodded and then watched as Fiona talked to Liam, smiling and cheering him on to wrap his hand around her manicured pinkie finger.
He’s mine. And yet my mother hasn’t even seen him.
“Jazmine, you must be hard-pressed taking care of him,” Fiona spoke, dashing Jazmine’s hopes of an afternoon filled with only play and baby talk.
Yes, because your son refuses to help me.
The two women, now sitting on the couch, watched as Liam played with the toys on his bouncer. Fiona had taken off her watch and stored it in her handbag when Liam had become entranced by it.
The older woman laid a hand on Jazmine’s arm. “I can help you.”
Jazmine tensed at her touch and refused to look at her.
That would be nice. But what would that really mean for Liam? What would that mean for Liam and his father? His father and me?
When Jazmine did not say anything, Fiona continued, “I can take care of him for a couple of days each week. He can stay with us at home. You can get a night’s rest. I know how much work it takes to care for a baby. And you can’t be doing this alone.”
“I’m getting a daytime nanny once I start working.” Jazmine closed her eyes for a second and shook her head. “H-how would that work though? All his things are here.”
“We can get stuff for him at home.” Fiona gestured with her hands nonchalantly. “Let me know what stuff he’d need, which diapers and milk he takes . . .”
“He’s being breastfed,” Jazmine declared.
Fiona blinked and pursed her lips. “Of course. So . . . do you pump milk? Can you give me a batch each time you drop him off?”
Jazmine sighed and clasped her hands together. “Tita, does Braden know you’re doing this?”
Fiona looked down at her wrist. “I’ve thrown the idea at him. Somehow he maintains—h-he doesn’t want to get involved.”
Oh my God. He really refuses to claim him. Even now.
Jazmine swallowed. Her hands shook, and so she gripped them more tightly together. She did not want Fiona to see.
It’s just been me and Liam these past days. And the girls. I don’t know if I can welcome another mother figure in Liam’s life. A grandmother figure. Who isn’t my mother . . .
Fiona continued to assure her. At the Palma residence, Fiona had household help who could support her around the clock. For the days that Liam was with Fiona, she would provide for his diapers and wipes, reducing Jazmine’s expenses. Fiona would buy him bottles, a sterilizer, and a crib. She was sure Braden’s father, Dennis, would agree to the arrangement.
“My son might not see it this way, but . . . we are family, Jazmine.” Fiona took Jazmine’s hands into her own. “And families stick together.”
Jazmine looked into her eyes. She wanted so much to believe her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Zara and the Pit
Zara made her way through the throng of people on the underpass escalator. When she got to the top, she walked to the white building around the corner.
The Makati streets were still awash with light and action. The metropolitan buildings were still lit; some professionals still worked, trying to rake in more money. Masses of cars waited for their turn to drive through the intersection between Ayala Avenue and Paseo de Roxas. Public buses and jeepneys honked to draw passengers on the streets. People rushed about their way down the underpass or to the loading stops.
At the second story of the building, Zara entered the Japanese modern-Zen restau
rant Sushi Kyu. It was a posh enough place that Zara knew she could have dinner by herself without anybody walking up to her and being a bother. This night, the place was perfect, because she needed to unthink.
Delicious food, a couple of drinks . . . that should fix me . . . for tonight.
A staff in a pink kimono greeted her at the reception and led her to a corner table. She looked around. Men and women in stuffy business suits dined on granite countertop tables. She took a deep breath and relaxed.
“Is it only you, ma’am?” the lady asked.
“Yes.” A snap was at the tip of her tongue, but she bit it back.
Yes, I’m alone, dammit.
Sensing her irritation, the lady took the extra placemats and cutlery, bowed, and left her to peruse the menu. In a few minutes, a waitress came with a pot of tea.
“Salmon teriyaki and nama genshu sake please,” Zara gave her order to the waitress, waving the tea away.
She relished the dinner, taking her time with the sashimi that came with the set. The first bottle of sake addled her.
Suddenly, the thought of waking up in Cebu after Jake had left jolted her to attention. She shook her head as if that would remove the mental picture from her thoughts, but the image of the empty room save for her and her luggage gripped her.
No . . . Shit. I need another drink.
“One more sake please,” she asked the waitress, motioning to her sake bottle. The waitress nodded and bowed to her in response before going back to the bar to get her drink.
During the past two weeks, she had replayed the events of that weekend in her mind over and over again. Their reunion, the fun, the sex, the fight, and then the end. What he said, what she said . . . She did not want to feel but wanted to know at which moment things could have turned around. She did not want to react but just wanted to recall his expressions, his gestures.
Jake giving up after she gave him her ultimatum had been the hardest to swallow. She knew it had been coming, that the breakup was for the best, but she had hoped he would have turned things around.