“Martha!” I heard Max call after me, but I ignored him and continued to march right into the bake shop. “Martha Elaine Grimauldi Aguas!”
“None of those are my names, you dummy,” I grumbled at him, handing my money over to the cashier in exchange for a bag of hopia. I tore the bag open and held it up to him for the sake of being polite. “Cheese hopia?”
“Let me take care of that,” he said, grabbing the bag out of my hands and placing it high over his head, a space we both knew I would never be able to reach.
Then the idiot started running. Like we were kids in a schoolyard. I huffed slightly before I broke into a run after him, feeling every ounce of fat in my body jiggle as he stepped into a greenhouse marked ‘Proposal Garden.’
The irony was just too much, but the space was undeniably beautiful. Deep magenta bougainvillea flowers cascaded from the ceilings like whimsical curtains. There was a full china set up in the middle, with rows and rows of deep red rose bushes leading to the table. Max was glaring at me as I struggled to catch my breath. He didn't look happy.
“What’s gotten into you?" he asked. "Your Tita just announced that she’s got cancer!”
“Yeah, but you heard the crazy rules about the trust, Max! I mean, everybody already thinks we're…” I said, biting my tongue immediately before I admitted that I had told everyone that we were dating.
Max’s easy demeanor suddenly changed. He'd placed the cheese hopia on the table. Then his eyebrows furrowed before he crossed his arms over his chest.
Oh my god, he’s giving me a stern look. The same kind of stern look I gave him all the time.
“Martha,” he said, sighing deep and long before placing his hands on my shoulders, breathing deeply until I found myself naturally following the pattern of his breathing. The little ache in my stomach disappeared slowly. “You already work at a cool job, and you’re almost halfway to your saving goal. Money is easy to come by. You’ve only got one Tita Flora.”
I looked up at him again. When did Max become so wise?
“My friend was sick, some time ago,” he shrugged in lieu of explanation. “It wasn’t pretty, and I wished I could have done more for him. It’s hard, Martha. A support system is the best thing your aunt has.”
But he made a good point. Tita Flora was sick, and she probably came home to be with the family so we could help her through it. She probably thought she needed to create this crazy trust thing to "encourage” us to take care of her, which was why I couldn't focus on that. Max had already told me exactly what I needed to hear, I think. I would be an idiot to give up on the trust, but I would be a bigger idiot if I let it control my life.
“God, I’m horrible,” I said.
“You’re in shock,” he corrected me. “Your aunt needs you, kiddo. This isn’t about the money. And, just in case it doesn’t work out, I solemnly swear that I will propose to you on your 27th birthday, and we'll blow it on a huge trip to Europe,” Max promised. He raised his long, girly pinkie at me and started wiggling it, and I smiled and crossed it with my short, stubby one before he bumped the pad of his thumb against mine. "We'll stay at the Peninsula hotel in Paris, the prices are lower because it's legit haunted."
“So you'll only love me for my money,” I pointed out to him.
“Yes, but I’ll make a good husband, I promise,” he said, giving me a little wink. “Now Martha Elaine,” he said, picking up the cheese hopia from the table. “I’m confiscating these just so I can find out why you love them so much.”
“Don’t you dare,” I said, reaching forward to grab it before he extended his arm backwards, the second place we both knew I could never manage to reach. “Argh! Worst husband ever!”
“Hey, you’re still 26,” he reminded me. “We’re not getting engaged yet. And you could still meet someone, Martha. I know you will,” he said, and for some reason, his smile turned a little wan, like it pained him to say all of this. “It’s possible.”
I managed to grab the hopia from him and took a bite. It was hard and bland, which never happened before. I frowned down at my food.
“Hey, which friend of yours is this?” I asked, following him back to the restaurant. “Have I met him before?”
“Oh don’t worry, wifey, I’ll introduce him to you soon enough,” he said, taking another piece from the bag and taking a bite. “Damn, these are good.”
The deal stood.
“There you are!” Tita Flora exclaimed, waving her raised fingers at us like we couldn’t see her. Her bangles jangled loudly as we were led back to our seats. Regina gave me a concerned look, as did Enzo, but I shook my head at my cousin to reassure her that I was fine, and looked down at my plate of pasta. Max and I had eaten a couple of cheese hopias, and I wasn’t hungry anymore.
“Now sit, sit!” Tita Merryweather exclaimed, asking the waiters to serve us our tarragon tea after their empty champagne flutes were cleared. “We've had some discussions about your Tita Flora's announcement. Obviously, we need a second opinion here. Luckily I have a co-member at the club whose husband has a cousin who is a very famous oncologist at St. Luke's. He should be able to tell us what's going on."
I turned to Tita Flora for confirmation, and she turned to Tita Fauna, who gave a small, almost imperceptible little nod. I could tell Tita Flora was scared without really letting it show, so I gave her a little reassuring smile.
"... and Enzo and Regina here have been talking nonstop. Now we want to know everything about you, Maxwell," Tita Merry finished, rapidly blinking at Max as a sign of her interest. He swallowed.
In my years as a member of the Aguas family, I have seen countless boyfriends and girlfriends cower and become terribly stiff and silent at a whole table of titas coaxing them to talk about themselves. Enzo, upon meeting my aunts for the first time, was all awkward, toothless smiles and polite nods. I should have known that Max would be different.
"Everything?" he asked. "I don't think I have enough champagne in me for that."
We all laughed, and his eyes met mine for a brief moment. I felt a small rush of love for him then, coming out of nowhere. It washed over me so pleasantly that I smiled at him.
“I am so sorry,” I whispered low to him. He gave me a little wink.
"Just joking ladies, I'm sure a handsome Max has a couple of interesting stories up his sleeve," he said, rolling up the invisible sleeves on his arms and making everyone laugh. "Anyone here ever experienced birthing a giraffe?”
When the luncheon was over, the entire Aguas family started to walk back to the van while complaining about how much moist chocolate cake and tarragon tea we had. Meanwhile Max and Enzo were saddled with the giant paper bags of cheese hopia to bring to the car, much to Tita Flora's delight.
“Oooh I love it when pretty boys carry things for me,” She cooed, and I saw Max’s eyes widen suddenly after she passed him. I raised my eyebrow at him.
“She pinched me in the butt,” he hissed at me, and I started laughing so hard I almost slipped on a rock, stumbling slightly.
“Kaaarma," He singsonged, and I tried to trip him with my toe, and he stuck his tongue out at him.
“Can you two stop being so dang cute?” Maggie asked, passing us and making a beeline for the car.
The family was already getting in, the engine was running, and Enzo was loading his two giant paper bags in the car. The amount of hopia we actually purchased was slightly comical, but my mom looked so happy with it. Lola May was already eating one.
Max adjusted the bags in his arms as we walked together.
“Did you really come here for me?” I asked him suddenly.
“I told you, I was meeting a friend,” he said. “The same friend I promised to introduce to you. Scott just flew in from Hong Kong, and he wanted to introduce me to his girlfriend…”
“…Ava?” I finished for him, going on a hunch. His eyes sparkled at the coincidence, and I smiled.
“Yeah! How did you know?” “Because I met Scott last night,” I pointed
out. “You should have come with us. He’s cool. You met in Hong Kong?”
“Scotland,” he corrected. “I’m meeting them at Bag of Beans tonight.”
“Tonight?” I asked.
“Yeah, I drove up three hours early so I could come and see you.”
The rush of happiness I felt for Max hit me so hard that I found myself tiptoeing up to him, careful not to let myself tip over as I smiled up at him and placed a light, gentle kiss on his lips with the entire family watching.
I swear I heard Regina squeal, and that was exactly what I was doing inside my head.
Oh god Martha, what have you done?
Nine
“Just breathe, girl, you’ll be fine,” Regina reassured me a week later as we walked into the hair salon/design studio of Aling Rosing, the official seamstress of the Aguas family. There was a time when the Philippines wasn't RTW-ready, and older families still had their go-to seamstresses in hidden corners of Manila. Aling Rosing just happened to be Lola May's. She's been making ballgowns and everyday dresses for my aunts and grandparents since I was a kid. Lola May's wedding dress was still a thing of legend, framed and hanging in her bedroom.
One of the reasons why I didn’t want to come over was because she knew I was having readymade dresses and clothes altered by a slightly less judgmental seamstresses in Kamuning. She commented once at the fit of my clothes when I last had something made, and I knew I'd aroused her suspicions.
But Regina was insistent, so insistent in fact that she came with me to the studio for the measurements session last week, and now was coming with me for the fitting.
Aling Rosing studied both of us, her eyes flying straight to Regina’s waist. She tutted and shook her head as the measuring tape around her neck swished to the sides, but said nothing. Regina was having a Lhullier gown shipped from America, and Aling Rosing was in charge of making sure it looked custom made. I don’t think she enjoyed that little delegation.
“I have your dress ready for you Martha,” Aling Rosing said, squeezing my cheek before she led us into the back, with a pair of shearing scissors in her hand (oh my god she could stab me!). "I used the measurements from the last time you were here. Go to the back and try it out. Then I'll come for you."
“It sounds like she’s going to murder me,” I said, grabbing Regina’s arm as she disappeared to the back. “Help me.”
“You can do it,” Regina said, pushing me forward.
Apparently Regina had this dress specially designed for me, to match the gowns they were having made for all the women of the Aguas family. Regina had chosen a happy, lemon yellow color for everyone, with the design being the variation.
The dress she designed for me had a fit bodice which fell straight down to the floor. The bodice clung to me in the wrong ways, hugging my stomach so it showed my underwear line and the canyon that housed my belly button, eurgh.
The dress was also too long, pooling on to the floor. On a regular person, a maxi dress would make them look long, slim and elegant. I just looked even shorter than I already was.
Then there was this cape thing. I’m sure Regina wanted to make me look avant-garde and cool, but I wasn’t sure why she thought this would do it. It enveloped the top of my body like the cover of a birdcage, ending just above my elbows. I think it was a way to make my breasts look a bit smaller, but I felt it only made me seem frumpier. The absence of skin made me seem flatter somehow though.
But hey, the dress fit.
“Hey, can we talk?” Regina asked from the other side of the dressing room as I mentally disparaged over the dress.
“Yes, because this dress is—“
“Martha, do I really want to marry Enzo?” Regina asked, and that immediately sent me out of the dressing room, drape-y dress or no. I stared at my cousin in disbelief, and she just looked at me with sad and big brown eyes, her lower lip already jutting forward like she was trying her hardest not to cry.
“What are you talking about?” I asked her, lifting my voluminous skirt to walk toward her. Regina’s arms were crossed over her chest.
“Hey,” I said, rubbing her arm to comfort her. “Come on, Reg. Did something happen?”
She pulled away from my grasp, walking towards the window to glare at it a little. Now I was sure a flair for the dramatic was something we’d inherited from Tita Flora.
“Yeah, Tita Flora’s inheritance happened,” she said, shaking her head. “Money has always been an issue between us. He’s got this idea that I don’t work for what I have, that I’m used to everything being handed to me, while he’s had to really bust his ass for it,” she said, fingering the display of fabrics and haberdashery on Aling Rosing’s work station.
“Then his father died. I told him he could stay in theatre if he wanted, I could support him, but that turned into a big fight that only made him push himself harder at that job with the construction company. Did you know they’re having financial problems already? That last shipment nearly rendered them bankrupt.”
This was news to me. Neither Frank, Enzo, nor any of his associates had breathed a word about it, and with the expanded witholding tax filing coming up, this wasn’t something they should be hiding. “Then Tita Flora made her announcement, and it was like we restarted the whole argument,” Regina sighed. “We’ve been fighting about four million pesos, can you believe it? It’s so stupid. I kept telling him it was a good thing that we will have a fund to start our lives with, and that Tita Flora could still live to ninety. But he doesn’t want it, because we didn’t work a day for it. What kind of a start is that?”
Tears fell freely from her face as we stood there in the room full of fabrics. I crossed the room slowly, coming to stand next to my cousin. I didn’t know what to tell her.
To be honest, I understood what Enzo was trying to say. The wealth of the Benitez family wasn’t something to take lightly, and it wouldn’t be like him to just take Regina’s charity and do what he loved. That wasn’t in his nature. Why didn’t Regina understand that? She’d insulted his ability to take care of her with that money.
But was that such a deal-breaker? I didn’t think so.
So I did the only thing I could think to do, and hugged her. It seemed to do the trick, and Regina calmed down after a few soothing words. She’d been holding on to this for too long on her own, and I could tell that she just wanted someone, anyone, to know that this was happening.
I should tell her now. Now.
“You know, girl,” Regina said as she rest her head on top of my chest. “Your breasts are amazing. They’re big and soft and they can save the world. Seriously.”
“Yeah, and everyone can call me SuperBoob,” I said, making her chuckle and hug me tighter. It was hard for me to hug her back, what with my cape and all, but we made it work.
“By the way,” I told her. “I hate this dress.”
“It will look better after you wear the body shapers, promise,” Regina said. “Love you, Martha.”
“Yeah, yeah, love you too.”
“Bathroom,” I said to Max when I arrived at his condo a week later, pushing past him to make a beeline for his bathroom. I gave Wookie his customary head scratch in passing and let Bibi follow in behind me. I took the plastic carrying case with the dress with me into the bathroom. I heard Bibi bark and scratch at the now closed door for attention.
“Aww, Bibi,” I heard Max coo on the other side of the door as I threw off my clothes, hung the carrying case on the hook by the door and brought out the dreaded underwear. I needed three layers of underwear before I could even consider putting on the dress. Tita Merry had been very strict about this. I hated to imagine what I would need to wear for the wedding. “Mommy is just taking a giant dump right now, okay? You can play with me and Wookie…”
“I am not pooping!” I explained from inside, shaking my head as I glared at myself in the mirror. “I have to try on this dress they had made for me, and your place is closer to the seamstress’ than mine!”
Laye
r one was my standard underwear and panties. Check. Layer two was going to prove to be a little more difficult. I tossed the thing to the floor and placed my feet in the proper holes.
Now or never, I thought and pulled the thing up. I tried to pull it up in one smooth motion, but my own body kept getting in the way. Oh shit, it’s tight. I huffed and pulled, twisting my body in the weirdest ways until I finally got them on with a sharp exhale of breath. I didn't even realize that was sucking in. I looked at my reflection in Max's mirror.
Is that what they were supposed to look like? Wearing the fresh-off-the-balikbayan-box Spanx was cutting off my breathing, even if it did pat down my stomach quite spectacularly. Who knew it was possible for me to have even a hint of an hourglass figure? I could see the slightest curve to my waist, and the bumpy points were kind of smoothed over to give the illusion that my body was quite shapely and slimmer.
Granted, it took a skintight pair of underwear to achieve, but I had to admit, the overall effect was nice. I exhaled deeply. I had to wear a minimizer over my bra, and that wasn’t pleasant either. I moved quickly and in short gasps of breath, threw the lemon yellow horror of a dress over my head and opened the door.
“Why does it sound like you’re about to—“
“Ha-ha, funny guy,” I interrupted, walking out the door with one hand over my presumably smaller breasts to keep the dress from falling. I exhaled a low breath, and I could hear Max’s breath hitch. “Zip me up?”
I heard him swallow thickly as I offered my back to him. I was already anticipating the number of ways this dress was unflattering for me, just based on the way it looked on me and covered me up entirely when I tried it on at the fitting. Where was the cape thing?
I looked down and realized I was wearing a completely different dress now. It dropped so low in front that I was sure my grandmother wasn’t going to approve, and rose up to the nape of my neck in the back. The sleeves were now made of the same lightweight chiffon that formed the bottom of the dress, showing off skin without displaying my large arms. Now I could see why I had to wear so many body shapers. When had Regina done this?
If the Dress Fits Page 11