Santi wrinkled his nose at the bowl.
“What is that?”
“Star apple,” Gab said in between bites, his mouth full of the milky, grainy purple flesh of the fruit. The milk took away some of the tang of the sap, leaving only the fruit’s sweetness. “Talk.”
“Right,” Santi’s nose was still wrinkled, even more so after he took a tiny sip of coffee. “I just came from a meeting with the Lai Group. They want Sunday Bakery. Apparently your little prank war with Sari got a lot of attention on social media, so they’re ready to make us a lease offer. Their first choice deferred the lease, so we’re getting the prime spot.”
Gabriel nearly dropped his star apple and his spoon, but his mouth hung open anyway. For all of Santi’s propriety and fussiness, Gabriel totally respected him. Santi had almost single-handedly restored his family’s crumbling hotel near Alaminos Road, turning it into one of the most exclusive wedding venues south of Manila. Food from La Spezia, his restaurant, was talked about by anyone who was anyone in the Philippine food scene and always made “best of” lists from Best Eats to Lifestyle Asia.
But most importantly, Santi was really supportive of Gabriel, and was the reason why Gab was able to open the bakery. And the thing was, Santi hadn’t exactly kept his movements about the Lai Group a secret. Gabriel had just...decided not to think about it.
“Oh,” Gab reacted, trying to seem cool, when inside, he didn’t know if he should celebrate or storm off in a huff.
Wasn’t this everything that you wanted? he asked himself. Wasn’t this the whole reason why you came to Lipa? Why are you hesitating?
“They love the idea of Sunday Bakery,” Santi continued, oblivious to Gab’s turmoil. “They’re offering us prime location at a cheap price, but only if we sign exclusively with their mall chains, and promise to expand to three stores in the next three years. Sending them the sinturis muffins was the perfect touch. So much so that one of the partners approached me and asked if we were interested in entering a joint venture for the expansions. He thinks you’re the Christina Tosi of the Philippines, and wants to market the bakery that way, with you at the helm of it.”
The compliment landed in Gab’s chest and made his ego swell and grow. But the rest of it? Gab took a bite of his star apple, and the fruit tasted like ash in his mouth. Ever since he’d first pursued baking, his father had told him he wasn’t going to make this a career, it wasn’t viable, it wasn’t for him.
Well, Gabriel had just proved him wrong. And he was really proud of himself for it. It felt amazing that this huge mall wanted him, wanted to partner with him. But he kept remembering the fire escape, the window he shared with Sari, and he just...he didn’t know.
“They can announce next week if we say yes,” Santi continued, subtly pushing away his coffee cup, preferring to tap his fingers against his thigh instead. “Are you in?”
Gabriel brushed invisible crumbs off his lap. His mother used to tell him that he always had crumbs on his lap, food on his mouth. Like he was trying to consume the entire world as fast as possible. And here he was, right at the cusp of getting everything he sought out to get.
This was what he’d come to Lipa for, what he and Santi had worked for. Gabriel had given up his family for this, and he was so close to getting it. It was going to be fine. This was what he wanted. He deserved this.
He nodded.
“I’m in.”
“Really?”
“Really. Let’s do this. I’m ready. You’re ready. Are you ready?”
“Yes, of course.” Santi looked mildly offended at the accusation, but didn’t say anything else. “I’m going to hold off the announcement, just until the end of the holidays. I don’t want this news buried. I want it out, and loud. Put it up on a tarpaulin loud.”
“That’s fine. Things are pretty busy here at the moment.”
“Sure.” Santi nodded. “And you’re resolute.”
“I’m what?”
“Resolute. Determined. Unwavering.”
“I know what resolute means, Santi. I just don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say it out loud,” Gabriel chuckled. “But yes. This was the way it was always going to be.”
“Good. I’ll let them know.” Santi agreed, putting his coffee cup down after a single sip. “I think you’ve made an excellent choice, Gabriel. Welcome to the big leagues.”
Santi actually smiled.
Chapter Twenty-One
December 22
The two Tomas sisters currently lived less than five minutes away from Lipa Cathedral. Gabriel didn’t know who L. Tomas Street was named after, but he was sure it wasn’t a coincidence that the family happened to live here too. It reminded Gabriel of his sibika classes, where he was told about how the richest of families lived closest to the church and the plaza. Had this been the colonial period of the Philippines, the Tomases would be pretty high up the food chain.
Sari was already waiting for him when he arrived, sitting in a moonlit patio in her usual white shirt, with a thin cardigan and a gorgeous green skirt that billowed around her. Her hair was pulled away from her face, and she wore red lipstick that drew attention straight to her lips. If he took a photo, she would look listless and bored, like a goddess stuck in a family meeting on Olympus. The only sign he got of her nerves was her foot tapping against the side of the table.
“Hey,” he said, and she looked up, as if she didn’t see him park his car in their driveway, as if she hadn’t seen him be let in, or jog up the small set of stairs to the house’s doorway. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” she said back, and any nerves or fears she had seemed to melt away as she smiled.
“Yes, good morning,” a third voice added, and Gabriel nearly jumped when he realized that someone was already standing behind him. The woman had a severity where Sari had softness, but was soft where Sari’s hard edges were. She was also carrying a yoga mat under one arm, was dressed in tight leggings and a sports bra in spite of the pre-dawn chill.
“Selene Tomas.” She held her free hand out to Gabriel to shake. Her grip was...firm, to say the least. “Are you a florist?”
“What?”
Selene pursed her lips in the direction of the abundance of flowers he was cradling with one arm.
“These? They’re for you,” he said, picking up a bunch of Queen Anne’s lace flowers and handing it to Selene, who looked as confused and bewildered as Sari. “Then I have these,” Gabriel continued, taking another bunch of bright orange mums, “for Sam.”
“I’ll take those,” Selene said, taking the flowers and adding them to her pile. “And those?”
“For Sari,” he finished, handing the last and biggest of the bouquets to Sari, a bunch of big pink peonies, still closed and waiting for a little sunshine and water to grow. Sari accepted the bouquet, staring at him like she had no idea who he was. Their hands brushed against each other on the exchange, and he managed to rub the back of her hand with his finger, just to assure her that yeah, girl, this is happening.
Behind him, Selene snorted and covered it up by clearing her throat.
“Are you attending Simbang Gabi at the Cathedral?” She asked them.
“Oh, I was thinking of going somewhere else tonight,” Gabriel said, ignoring the look of surprise on Sari’s face. “Just for something different.”
“Well you’re spoiled for choice here, I guess. She has to be in the café by nine,” she announced. “Use a condom, please.”
“We always do,” Sari and Gab said together, making Selene roll her eyes before she went into the house, presumably because she had done enough sun salutations to pull the sun up from the sky like Apollo and his chariot.
“I’ve never seen my sister so impressed. Did you come up with this on your own?” Sari asked, picking lightly at the pink petals and smiling at him. Normally the question would strike Gab as rude, or
condescending, but there was nothing Sari could ask from him at this point that he could deny. He was trying to make a good impression, after all.
“No. I stole it from the Viscount Babington, who stole it from the Duke of Hallmere.”
She blinked at him.
“You...you read the Babington series?”
“My mother did. For a lot of my childhood I would come home early and she was at home with a new baby. She would put us all down for an afternoon nap by reading from the books—skipping over the dirty parts,” Gabriel explained, shifting uncomfortably because he’d never told anyone this before. He’d never had a reason to before. He used to love listening to his mom read the books—most of the time having no idea what was going on, but his mother loved playing up the voices, using different tones and accents to entertain herself and her children.
“Huh. Which brother would you say you are?” Sari asked.
“Allistair, of course,” he snorted as they walked to the gate. Gab’s car was parked in front of the sidewalk. “He’s the oldest.”
“I think you’re more of a Carter, the third brother. Eats a lot, travels to avoid his problems. But you don’t have a problem with your temper.”
“Give it a couple more years,” he chuckled as they settled in. Once he was sure Sari had her seat belt on, he fiddled with the GPS on his phone and started their quick drive. “But I do like Carter. When he makes that declaration in front of everyone to defend Penny? It’s the stuff of great romances.”
Was it just him, or was this the biggest smile he’d ever seen from Sari?
They were still early when they arrived at the church of his choice. A little way away from the main thoroughfare of Lipa was Carmel Church, a sprawling complex that, upon entering, gave off serious Spanish piazza vibes, with the shapes of the buildings and the greenery growing there. Every wall was painted a fresh, lemony yellow that glowed even in the dark before the dawn. The entrance to the church was made of three portico arches underneath a rose window, and any embellishment to the building was painted a stark white. There were no vendors here, just people coming in for the mass. It felt more serene, quieter. Gabriel pulled the car into the parking slot and killed the engine, letting the night settle in between them.
“I like Carmel,” Sari told him, looking around as they stayed sitting in his car, their seats both slightly reclined. Neither of them seemed ready to head to the church for Simbang Gabi. “Did you hear about the miracles that happened here?”
He shook his head.
“They say rose petals fell from the sky,” she told him.
“Do you believe that?”
“About as much as I believe attending all nine Simbang Gabi masses grants me a wish.” Sari laughed weakly, and Gabriel noticed she was nibbling at her bottom lip, staring at something on the console between them.
“You can hold it if you want,” Gab said, flexing his hand, curling and uncurling his fingers like he was showing off to her. “I’m giving you permission. Come on, Sari. You know you want to.”
She snorted and looked away just as Gabriel was doing spirit fingers for her. And just when he thought she was getting sick of him, with her head still turned away, Sari reached for his hand and squeezed it.
Gabriel wanted to jump out of the car and send the good Lord and the Virgin Mary his ever loving thanks for this moment. But that would have meant letting go of her hand.
“Are you still not going to tell me what you wished for?” she asked him suddenly.
“You don’t see me asking you what you wished for,” he argued, and she seemed content with that answer. He wondered how she would react if he told her about the mall deal for Sunday Bakery. Surely she would be happy for him, right? It was a good thing. And she cared about him, and possibly wanted good things for him.
But for the life of him, he didn’t know why he didn’t tell her then and there.
“Let’s stay here for a while,” Sari told him.
He could have stayed here with her forever.
“Are you really not seeing your family for Christmas?”
Until of course, she asked him questions like that.
“It’s hard to explain how exhausting it is to be around them sometimes,” he sighed, and he wondered how long he’d been carrying that particular thought around, because oldest brothers weren’t supposed to think things like that. “My sisters would all rather have their teeth pulled than admit they’re wrong, my brothers are so young I can only understand about half of what they’re talking about—”
“Youths,” Sari snorted like she’d long suffered a similar fate, and he chuckled softly because it was too accurate.
“Then my mom will fuss about everything, refuse any help to the point of stressing herself out, which will of course, eventually anger my dad. And of course there’s Bubbles.”
“Bubbles?”
“Bubbles. Part cat, part spawn of Satan and locked in an epic battle between himself and my shoelaces. And it’s just me, he never does that to anyone else. I can’t leave sneakers just lying around the house unless I want them to be completely shredded by the time I get to them.”
“That sounds awful. But that’s not why you’re not going home.”
“Funny, Kira never said anything about Capricorns going straight for the kill.”
Sari squeezed his hand. “Is it your dad?”
“Of course it’s my dad.” Gabriel dropped his head back against his seat, exhaling a breath he hadn’t realized he had in him. “He has such outdated views of what it means to be a man. And I didn’t really notice.”
“What do you mean? Because he didn’t like what you ended up doing?”
“Yeah. The girls he encouraged to do anything they wanted, to work on things that would make them happy. He’s harder on us boys, making sure we stay ‘in line,’ we know what it means to be ‘a real man.’ He would hate the fact that I have neon lights on my shop wall, that I serve pink cupcakes and wear pins on my jackets.” He looked down at his little enamel pin, a dangly one with a pug and a star. But not for long, he thought. Soon his father would actually be proud of him, be happy for his son’s success.
“I like your stupid pin,” Sari clarified, and he turned his head just in time to see her watching him. “But continue.”
“And my sisters are all stubborn enough to take that as a reason to rebel against my dad and become the scariest, strongest women I know.”
“Good for them.”
“I know. Lily’s thirteen months younger than me, and I really think she’s the oldest. Daisy’s one year younger than her, and she takes care of everyone with the scary sort of efficiency that works on us. And Mindy is...well. She’s a force of nature. She can do anything she sets her mind to. She and Sam should never meet.” He couldn’t help the little smile on his face, just imagining Sam and Mindy conspiring in a corner to take over the world.
“Then there’s the younger kids. Ivy loves all French things, but I have a feeling she’s growing out of it. Rose always feels like the middle child, but she’s really the sweetest. Then Iris, who loves being the youngest girl. Old enough to bully the twins, but young enough to still get all the perks. Then the twins, Angelo and Mikael. My parents named them after the archangels but they might as well be Bubbles’ accomplices for all the things they’ve managed to pull.”
Gabriel pressed his lips together. He did that whenever he threw up too much, and right now he felt like he’d done just that.
“Sounds like you miss them.”
“I do,” he sighed. “I can’t help it. I’ll always be the kuya.”
“So why stay away? If you’re hoping your dad will change, I can tell you from experience that he won’t.” Sari squeezed his hand. “You can’t change anyone. It’s not your job. The best you can do is decide if you can still be there for them. If you still love them.”
He knew she was right. And he knew that she knew more about this than he did. It wasn’t going to do any good, keeping this rift between himself and his father open and gaping.
“I know,” he sighed, putting her hand on his lap so he could trace circles on her palm. “I just... I need time away to wrap my head around this new reality I have to live with. I will never be man enough for my father, and I shouldn’t care.”
“We choose the kind of people we become,” Sari said gently, her gaze suddenly far away. The church bells were ringing, and the mass was about to begin. ”I think you love your family more than you hate what your father thinks of you.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Gabriel proposed. “Are you hungry?”
“Always.”
* * *
One of the reasons Gabriel had decided that Lipa would be a good place to settle in was because of the food. Here, everyone had their bulalo place of choice, a Filipino food restaurant of choice, and a favorite secret lomi spot. When he moved here, Gabriel took his time to find his own, and now he made sure Sari knew that she was the first person he’d ever taken there.
They pulled up in front of Rose’s 24-hour carinderia, a little spot on the side of the road in front of his subdivision. It looked slapdash and put together at the last minute, as if the person who added this extension forgot about the project halfway through and left. But they had lots of seating, al fresco ambience and, according to them, served “probably the best lomi,” and that had been enough for Gabriel to try the place.
Sari was actually rubbing her hands together in glee. Finally, something they both agreed on.
“I’m going to get extra chicharon on mine,” she announced as they walked up to the shop and took their seats.
“Extra chicharon, and red onions,” he agreed.
Moments later, large bowls of thick yellow noodles and equally thick pork-based soup appeared in front of them. The lomi almost stuffed to the brim with sinful things like pork belly, kikiam, squid balls, fish balls, pork liver and a generous sprinkling of crispy chicharon on top. It was always warm, and the flavorful amber colored soup always hit the right amount of saltiness. Sprinkled with patis, the soy sauce and egg took it over the top.
Sweet on You Page 20