If the Dress Fits

by Carla de Guzman

  She pointed at my drink with her lips, hands on her hips. Oh boy. I'd done it now.

  "It's iced coffee," I sad simply. "We passed by for some on our way here."

  "Darling, that is a thousand calories that you're never going to lose," she said, shaking her head as she turned to the bakery offerings. I noticed her giving my ensemble a wary side-eyed look. What was wrong with wearing a fitted t-shirt and big floral midi skirt? I thought it was very girly and matched the venue. "You really should be more careful about what you eat. Really, you would look much more beautiful if you lost weight. Like Regina!"

  She started laughing, and I bit my lip to hide my wince. Ugh. Tita Fauna really knew where to stab a bitch in the heart.

  "Now tell me which of these menu items is that heavenly tart thing that your mother serves for merienda," she said, sidling up to me and acting like nothing had happened. I knew she thought she was being helpful, and I had to keep telling myself that repeatedly to believe it.

  After helping her out and getting the cashier's reassurance that I could pick my orders up after the luncheon, I smiled weakly at her and told Tita Fauna that I would see her inside. That's when I saw Maggie sitting by a wooden bench in front of wild, showy dahlias, hunched over her phone, fingers flying fast.

  "Help, I've been stabbed by Tita Fauna's words," I said, slowly collapsing next to her and spreading my body over her lap. I tossed my half-finished drink into the nearby trash can. Maggie rolled her eyes for my sake and put her phone aside.

  "What was it this time? Your posture? Your breathing?"

  "My caffeine addiction," I grumbled. "She said I would be prettier if I was thin."

  Maggie put on a thoughtful look. "That doesn't mean she thinks you're not pretty now."

  "Aw honey," I sighed, "You're sweet, but Aguas women are a little crazy and we know it."

  We both shared a laugh. I sat up and she nudged my arm, brushing her skinnier elbow against mine.

  “Ack, salvation!” Regina exclaimed, walking up to us from the entrance. She was wearing a very pretty romper, classy and playful at the same time. Her long, black hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, and anyone would have mistaken her for a model. Is that what I would look like if I were thin?

  “Tita Flora just asked me if I was pregnant,” she groaned, squeezing herself between me and Maggie on the bench. “Of all the nerve!”

  Maggie, whose arm was placed over the back of the bench, suddenly reached out and tugged on a strand of my hair. I turned to her, and saw that she was giving me a look and pointing at Regina with her lips. I shook my head. Her brows furrowed. Her message rang loud and clear: if I wasn’t going to tell Regina, Maggie would.

  This is what I get for telling my sister everything. This was my opening. I took a small, calming breath as Regina continued her ranting.

  “Is it because I’m getting fat?”

  "Hey Reg," I said to her suddenly, trying to cross my legs. I couldn't, because of the size of my legs, and settled for crossing my ankles instead. "Why isn't Enzo doing theatre anymore? He was...he was so good at it."

  Maggie suddenly bolted from the bench. Traitor!

  Meanwhile, Regina frowned immediately at my question, playing with the hem of her romper shorts. Her ring sparkled in the afternoon light. I could tell she'd dodged this one before.

  "His father died," she told me, "Just a year before he graduated from drama school. The theatre thing never sat well with Uncle Maynard, and Enzo felt he needed to respect his father's wishes so he came home and found a job with the developer. The owner is a friend of his father's, so he got the job quickly."

  I never knew Enzo had that conflict with his father. I tried to recall him in college, trying to remember if his father had attended any of his shows. But everything was a bright, colorful blur of singing and stage lights and scenes, nothing stood out to me. He never told me anything about that, not in all that time we spent together.

  "But is he happy?" I asked, looking at Regina. She bit her lip nervously, but it was a private expression, something I was probably not meant to see.

  "I think he will be," she said, looking up at me.

  Ask her. Ask her if she knows about you and Enzo. Ask her now.

  “Actually,” she said suddenly, squeezing my hand. “Enzo and I haven’t exactly been getting along lately. We’ve been having…issues.”

  What?

  "Regina?" Mom's voice rose from the inside the greenhouse we'd rented for the welcome home luncheon. "Can you come in and help me with the place settings? Your Mom said you would know who has to go where."

  "Oh, yes," Regina said, immediately bolting up from her seat to follow the sound of Mom's voice. "I'll help you, Tita. Oh Martha!" she exclaimed, walking backwards as she faced me. "Have you gone for your fitting yet? Aling Rosing the dressmaker is buying the cloth next week, and she needs your measurements."

  I groaned. "Reg, it's an engagement party! Why do I have to have a dress made?"

  "Because I'm the bride, and I said so!" Regina exclaimed with a little wink. "Don't you want to be pretty for the society pages?" She asked before disappearing behind the door. I groaned again and pouted like a six-year old kid being made to stand in the corner.

  I hated getting my measurements. There was always the seamstress' little tut of disapproval when she realized my stomach was nearly a whole measuring tape long. Having my body broken down into numbers just reminded me how far from the norm I was. I kicked at a rock on the ground, trying to think of a way to get out of it.

  “What is the matter, Martha dear?" Tita Flora asked, appearing from the bathroom. She was wearing a flowy shirt with floral-print chiffon on top and lined with thick, blue fabric with her garish pink leggings. Trust Tita Flora to stand out in a garden full of bright and colorful flowers.

  "Oh...nothing, Tita. I was just thinking," I said, giving her a smile as she sat next to me on the bench.

  "Ooh! What about?" she asked, and started to fuss with my clothes, smoothing out my skirt and slightly lifting the collar of my shirt to hide my ample cleavage. I pulled at the front of my shirt a little, trying to get it to stretch out slightly. “Hmmm. Thank god we got you those new bras you ordered dear, that one is looking a little worse for wear,” she tutted, shaking her head at my 42 DD cleavage. “You were thinking about your boyfriend?"

  "Wha—No," I stammered. I nearly asked her what she was talking about, boyfriend, pish! I had once again forgotten that I was supposed to be dating Max. Tita Flora looked a little concerned and reached for my hand.

  "Does he not want to marry you?" she asked me suddenly, taking my arm. “You tell me right now, because my announcement inside might change things for you. You’re already 26 you know. I was 27 when I married my first husband."

  ACK. I was just getting used to having a fake boyfriend, can we not bring in marriage yet? I shook my head at Tita Flora.

  "No, it's not that, Tita," I promised her. "I wasn't..."

  "Martha!" An all-too familiar voice exclaimed, and I swear my heart stopped for a moment when I saw him at the entrance. I had to be hallucinating, because this wasn't possible. But when he crossed the space between us and headed straight for a kiss on my cheek, I snapped out of it. “Surprise!”

  He smiled at me, and suddenly time slowed and came to a halt around us. Everything was right in the world because my best friend was here! Weren't you supposed to be ecstatic when your best friend surprises you? I wanted to hug him. Him and the copy of Pride and Prejudice in his hands.

  Questions raced through my mind, but none of them seemed important right then because Max was here! Right where I needed him to be, and I didn’t even have to ask. Relief flooded me, and I smiled so much that my cheeks started to burn.

  "Max," I said, and it came out so breathy that it surprised even me.

  Then Tita Flora gasped, and I immediately realized my mistake. My little emotional high came crashing down as I remembered he was my faux beau.

  CRAP. Why did I
have to say his name? Now Tita Flora thought we were together! Be cool, be cool be cool. You can totally do this. Just. act. normal.

  "You...you should really wear a jacket, it gets chilly at night up here," I said lamely instead. Max smiled, a tiny dimple appearing on his cheek as he assured me that he was fine. That he was actually wearing a light sports coat escaped my attention.

  I was about to ask him what on Earth he was doing in Tagaytay (two hours away from Manila on a good day) of all places when Tita Flora gave the loudest, least subtle coughs known to mankind.

  Uh-oh.

  Her eyes were sparkling as Max and I turned to her expectantly. Her mouth opened, and I knew she was going to be asked to be introduced. I never realized what it was like to live in nightmares until that moment.

  But before she could say anything, Max was already starting to speak.

  "Hi, I'm Max Angeles," he said simply. "Martha told me she was going to be in Tagaytay all day with her aunts from the States. Tita Flora, I presume?"

  “Yes," Tita Flora cooed, and I swear I saw her blush as she extended the back of her hand to Max for him to touch it lightly against his forehead in a respectful gesture. "Did Martha ask you to come today?"

  "No Tita, I was on my way to visit a friend nearby, but it's a bit early, so I thought I would surprise her," he said, and they both gave my still slightly shocked face a cursory glance. "I think I managed to succeed."

  "Oh you did, you did!" Tita Flora said excitedly, standing from the bench with the help of his gallantly outstretched hand. "Max, you must join us for lunch. I'm sure the rest of the family would love to meet the man who’s swept our Martha off her feet! Have you met Regina yet? She's getting married soon to this wonderful man…”

  The next thing I knew, Max was getting ushered into the restaurant as I watched helplessly from behind. From inside I could hear choruses of loud waves of laughs that rose and fell every few minutes. I slowly released a breath I realized I was holding on to. Max and Tita Flora were too busy charming the pants off of each other to notice my panic.

  The room seemed to fall into total silence when they crossed the threshold. I could see Tita Merry's eyebrows furrow as she tried to remember why Max looked so familiar before she widened them in surprise.

  Enzo dropped his phone. Regina looked at the pair curiously and gave me a look of confusion, no doubt to ask me who Tita Flora had brought in. Maggie's face crinkled with an evil little grin; we had a little bet about which of the aunts would become a cougar—I was betting on Tita Fauna showing off her wild side, and Maggie erred on the side of caution with Tita Flora. Even Lola May looked pleasantly surprised.

  My mother, who already knew that I was faking all of this, smiled at me knowingly.

  “Everyone!” Tita Flora announced like she hadn’t already caught the attention of the entire room. “This is Max. He's Martha's....friend. Max, these are my sisters, my niece Regina, her fiancée Enzo, my mother and aunts, and I’m sure you know Martha’s sister and parents.”

  “I had no idea this was a family affair,” he said. “I wouldn't want to intrude.”

  “No, no stay!” Tita Flora exclaimed, squeezing his arm as she led him to a place they pulled up next to mine. We settled in our seats as Tita Flora walked to the right hand side of the head of the table--the place she always took at family gatherings. I saw Max frowning at someone from across the table and gave his legs a little kick when I realized who he was giving the evil eye to.

  “What is your problem?” I whispered as Tita Flora clapped her hands to let the dinner service begin. Bowls full of salad seemed to materialize out of nowhere, with rose and marigold petals sprinkled on top. Butternut squash soup was ladled into our bowls. "Max, why are you so annoyed at Enzo?"

  “He looks like the kind of jerk that would break your heart,” Max whispered to me, nudging his head towards Enzo, who was sharing a joke with Tita Fauna about math, of all things. I felt the breath vanish from my lungs. His reaction was surprising and perplexing, to be honest.

  “He already has,” I said, reaching out to squeeze his arm. "Let's move on."

  Conversation around the table was pleasant and easy, revolving around the three major topics that consumed the family. Regina's engagement party, the new Miss Philippines winner who turned out to be the niece of the daughter of the friend of someone Tita Merry knew in high school, and politics, when the conversation started going stale. This was all well and good for a normal Sunday brunch, but we all knew it wasn't.

  From his place beside Maggie, I could tell Dad was getting antsy. Finally, at the end of the pasta course, my father turned his head toward his oldest sister.

  “Ate Flora what is going on,” he said, “Did we really come all of this way just to eat salad?”

  Aunt Flora stood up and frowned at my father, a tiny bit of salad dressing left on her lip. Mom shook her head at my father, telling him to just calm down and eat.

  “Since somebody here is so impatient,” Tita Flora huffed, placing the tips of her hands on the table. “I am very glad you all took time to come here today. As you may have guessed, I gathered you all here for a reason. I would also like to welcome our guests, Lorenzo and Maximus…”

  “Maxwell, his full name is Maxwell, Tita,” I corrected her.

  “Now Martha, it’s rude to correct your aunt,” he tutted at me, and I rolled my eyes.

  “Nevertheless,” Tita Flora continued, unperturbed. “I have an announcement to make.” “Just tell us, Ate!” Dad exclaimed. Clearly, the suspense was killing him.

  “Philip,” My grandmother said sharply.

  “I have cancer, okay?” Tita Flora finally announced, so suddenly and so quickly that a sudden silence pierced the entire room. Lola June gasped. Max reached out and held my hand, and I squeezed it tightly.

  From her place at the table, Tita Fauna grabbed her sister’s hand much in the same way to support her.

  “Fauna and I just found out. I have not been feeling well, and we had a doctor check a lump that formed. I’m at stage three, which is shocking, but I’ve already decided to just let it happen. However long it will take.”

  “But Flora…” Tita Merry began, already about to burst in to tears.

  "Hija, certainly not," Lola April said vehemently.

  But Tita Flora shook her head to stop anyone from interrupting.

  “That being said,” she continued, gesturing for everyone to lower their voices. “I’ve asked our attorney here to coordinate with mine in the US to prepare everything regarding my estate. Fauna and I live comfortably off the interest from an account in the US, and it now covers my doctor’s fees.”

  “Once I pass away, that will go to her. There’s always been money set aside for Lydia on her father’s side. Everything else I made sure to divide up equally, and put into a trust fund for my three favorite kiddos, Regina Marie, Margaret, and Martha,” she said, pointing her index fingers and wiggling it at myself, Regina, and Maggie.

  Like the rest of the family, we could only stare at her, jaws on the floor.

  “What does that mean, Aunt Flora?” Regina asked, lowering the hand she’d placed over her lips. She’d instinctively reached over towards Enzo.

  “It means she’s making you her inheritors,” my father said, his brow furrowed. I could already see the wheels in his brain turning as he tried to think about what this meant for me and Marga—Maggie. “You placed it in a trust?”

  “Yes, we’ve made sure it’s set up in the US so it’s tax free, like you recommended, Philip,” she said. “And I’ve distributed it equally so that each of them will get…a hundred thousand dollars.”

  TITA FLORA SAY WHAT?!

  Max actually did a spit-take of his soup, making Enzo cringe slightly. I thumped on his back while still starting at my aunt, who looked delighted at the prospect of shocking everyone this way.

  “That’s right, isn’t it Fauna? Yes, yes, one hundred thousand dollars,” she said, nodding when the more calm Tita Fauna confi
rmed the answer. She looked totally composed in these circumstances, which wasn’t unusual for Tita Fauna. As the second daughter, she was always cool and level-headed, especially next to her dramatic ten-minute older twin. She must have had a lot of time to absorb it all.

  “That’s the prize money on Drag Race!” Maggie exclaimed, and I had to appreciate her ability to keep things in perspective. Next to me, Max chortled at the reference.

  “Four million pesos,” Dad said, as Mom gave a low whistle. “That’s a lot of money, girls. What are the terms of the trust?”

  Tita Flora had a large, cat-got-the-cream smile on her face, and I knew she wasn’t going to make this easy for anyone. Her marriage to Uncle Helios, a Greek shipping magnate, had been rife with drama, and I think she found it fun to put us all through this. She wasn’t just going to give the money, was she?

  “Well, I imagine it will be very easy for the two of you,” Tita Flora said, looking particularly at Regina and me, wiggling her eyebrows at the men. “And I made this stipulation because I want you girls to be happy and settled in life, so you don't have to think about money. You girls are smart and strong, and I have no doubt you will use this money wisely. I made this stipulation because I want to make sure you settle down and be as happy as possible. The trust stipulates that you must be engaged by midnight on your 27th birthday to receive the money.”

  I wanted to stand up and scream. Really. There was just…just too much going on. The only thing I knew about my life was that I wanted to see Europe. Tita Flora’s will made sure that would happen, if I could do it. I was turning 27 in six months! If I was going to be engaged, it would be…

  Max turned to me and caught my gaze with his eyes.

  Oh my god.

  I couldn’t take the tension in the room, my knuckles turning white as I grabbed the arms of my seat. Suddenly there was a gap inside me, and I needed something to fill it.

  You know what I needed just about then? I needed a cheese hopia.

  “I’m going to the bathroom,” I suddenly announced, pushing my chair back so quickly that it fell over backwards before I ran out of the greenhouse and headed straight to the bakery. One piece, I told myself, I needed at least one piece of cheese hopia.