Any Day with You

by Mae Respicio

“Excuse me?”

  “Flying. Skydiving.”

  Uncle Roy and I make eye contact and start to laugh.

  “Wow!” says Dad. “Sounds good to me.”

  Flying! So that’s what Tatang meant on his journal list: Learn to fly.

  “We can’t go skydiving,” Mom says.

  “Don’t worry, it’s all indoors,” Tatang says.

  Her face gets twisty. Uncle Roy says, “Sis, look how excited he is,” and the two of them start arguing about whether we should go inside. Whenever they get this way I imagine them as little kids.

  “Joy, Roy, please,” Tatang says, but they don’t listen. “Children!” he booms. Tatang places a hand to his heart like it hurts him to shout. This quiets them. Now he’s the one who looks annoyed. “Before we go in, I want you to close your eyes.”

  “For once can we not do this?” Mom says. “Can we please just get some breakfast?”

  “Close. Your. Eyes,” Tatang says in his sternest voice.

  The adults do as he asks. Tatang closes his too but I secretly keep mine open. I want to see what he’s plotting.

  “Good. Now feel whatever you’re feeling—frustration, humor, sadness—and let that emotion be.” Mom keeps huffing but with her eyes shut. Everyone else seems soothed by Tatang’s voice. “Whatever you’re feeling, it will pass.” Tatang pauses. “Now, think of your happiest moment. Hold it in your head.”

  A strange thing happens. Uncle Roy has a little smile on his face, Tatang a big one, and even Mom looks like she’s remembering something good. “I want you to understand that this is the gift of memory. No matter what you’re feeling you can recall the good, any time you want. Now think of the wonderful things ahead. What do you most want for yourself and for your loved ones? Are you ready? Open your eyes.”

  They do.

  “All right, look around and see the good in this moment. Our health, happiness, and each other. We just time-traveled. Did you like that?”

  Mom goes back to frowning. “I love you, Tatang, but I’m not in the mood.”

  It’s Tatang who sighs now. “I’m trying to help you, anak. How will you all handle things when I am away?”

  “Then maybe you shouldn’t go.” If no one else will say it, I will.

  “You know, I’ve been thinking, Tatang…,” Mom says. “What if you do a test run? After Christmas we can reassess whether you really want to make the move a permanent one.”

  “That’s a great idea!” I say.

  But Tatang only looks at us with kind eyes. He takes my brother’s hand. “How about we all go in and enjoy this. Please? For the old dude?”

  Mom buries her face in her hands, but this time she groan-laughs. “Fine, fine.”

  “You heard Big T,” says Uncle Roy. “Let’s go in and fly.” He slides the door open as wide as it will go.

  * * *

  “Are you sure this is safe?” Mom asks.

  “It’s not hard. Children as young as six can do it. Although, sorry, Toby, you’ll have to sit this one out and watch,” Tatang says.

  Uncle Roy grabs the tickets from Tatang and hands them to the front desk guy.

  We spend the next half hour getting trained. “You’ll be experiencing the thrill of free fall but without jumping from a plane,” the instructor says.

  Mom’s still not into this, but she listens.

  After the session we get outfitted in bright blue jumpsuits, goggles, and helmets. We take one look at each other, and everyone cracks up—even Mom and Toby. The trainer gave him goggles to wear too. Mom’s eyes tear up from laughing so much and I wonder if Tatang planned it this way.

  The trainer leads us into “the fly room,” with a huge clear, vertical cylinder and benches all around. We’re about to skydive in a giant tall wind tunnel. I’m not scared like with the roller coaster—riding that showed me I can get over my nerves.

  “Who’s first?” the trainer asks.

  “Joy? You want to try?” Tatang says.

  Her eyes widen. “Someone else, please.”

  “You can do it, Mom,” I say, but she shakes her head.

  “Kaia?” Tatang says to me. I kind of want to go first, but I know how much he’s been waiting for this; it’s on his list, after all.

  “I think you should kick us off,” I say.

  “Great, because I’m ready!”

  “Good man,” the trainer says, and together they head into the tube.

  Tatang’s smile is gigantic—mine too.

  The instructor counts down and Tatang shoots into the air, his arms suspended like wings. Toby smushes his nose up against the glass and Tatang waves at him.

  I feel butterflies for my great-grandpa getting to do something like this. They’re the same ones I feel about tomorrow: at camp my group will get to hear our names announced.

  Mom walks up to the cylinder and stares in awe. I know she’s holding this feeling, this moment in her head like I am: the most wonderful thing, my great-grandfather, flying.

  Monday morning! I bound down the stairs in my favorite sundress, and as soon as Tatang sees me he says, “Today’s your big day!”

  I pat a fast drumroll on my thighs.

  “Kaia, let’s remember that there are lots of kids entering the festival. I don’t want you to get your hopes up too high, okay?” Mom says in her professor voice.

  “Besides, your group won no matter what the results are,” Tatang says, even though the glint in his eyes matches mine.

  * * *

  The opening camp bell chimes. I dash into class and sink into a beanbag. Eliza’s happy and humming while she gathers her things, so I know this means excellent news. She turns my way with a huge smile.

  I knew it!

  Noisy chatter fills the room. I’ll have to not seem too braggy around the groups that don’t make it in when she gives us the good news—they worked hard too. I don’t want anyone to feel bad.

  Eliza sits in a beanbag and scans her clipboard.

  “I can’t take it anymore. Tell us who won!” Dave Conway calls out.

  Abby looks at me and makes her eyes go wide.

  My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest. “Well?”

  Eliza looks at me then down at her list—her smile disappears.

  Oh no.

  “I’m so very sorry, everyone, but no teams from Camp Art Attack were announced as winners.”

  “Seriously?” Trey says. “Not even mine?”

  The class grumbles. Abby buries her face in her hands.

  I can’t believe it. “But we all worked so hard.”

  “You did,” Eliza says. “Okay, everyone, real talk. I know this is disappointing, but that’s how things go sometimes. I’ve learned this from whenever I audition for something or go on a job interview—you win some and you lose some. It doesn’t change the fact that you made amazing art, and we’re going to celebrate! We’ll premiere your movies at the end of camp and invite your families to walk our very own red carpet. What do you think?”

  I think she expected this would get a round of applause, but the room is quiet.

  “That’s not really the same,” Abby says.

  “You’re sure they didn’t choose any of our movies?” I ask, and Eliza nods.

  My eyes water, but I try not to let any tears break free. So this is a broken heart. I have to tell Tatang that I failed.

  * * *

  After camp ends, Trey, Abby, and I go outside. Trey stuffs his hands into his pockets and kicks a few pebbles. Abby pulls a camera to her eye but stops. She sighs. “This feels like a bad dream.”

  “Like the first time I didn’t get cast as Peter Pan,” Trey says. He gets rejected a lot after auditions, and his parents tell him he has the choice to stop, but he always decides to keep going. Normally he shrugs and tells me and
Abby: You win some, you lose some, like Eliza told us. Now I understand how much it hurts.

  “I’m sorry, Kaia. I know you wanted this for Tatang,” Abby tells me.

  I want to say something to make them feel better, but I can’t think of a single thing.

  We walk in silence. After a few blocks I see the red tiled roof and palm trees of Ocean Gardens. I pause in front of the gates.

  Not only will I have to tell my family the awful news, but Tatang will have to break it to everyone here. They were rooting for us.

  “You guys want to go in? Maybe that’ll cheer us up,” I suggest.

  Abby says, “Sure. I’ve always wanted to meet your friends here.”

  At the front desk the staff gives us visitor badges that we hook onto our shirts. Cynthia and a few other residents wave and come over.

  My friends meet, young and old.

  “Where’s Harold?” I ask.

  “Probably resting. I think he said he was feeling a little under the weather,” Cynthia says.

  “What are you all up to?” I say.

  “We’re about to have tea on the roof deck…and you’re coming with!”

  We follow them into an elevator that opens onto a rooftop covered in fake grass with lounge chairs and a view of the ocean.

  “Wow, this is living,” Abby says, pulling her camera out and getting some shots.

  One of the ladies offers us tea and we sit. Trey takes his cup. His pinky springs up and he delicately slurps, making everyone laugh.

  I look out at the wide ocean and start to feel the tiniest bit better. I’m glad we stopped by.

  “Kaia, how’s the movie going? Celestino said you should hear the results soon,” Cynthia says.

  Trey and Abby glance at me. “We lost,” I say. My eyes sting and I can feel tears wanting to come out.

  Cynthia touches my shoulder. “I’m so sorry, kids.”

  “I am too. I wanted a lot of people to see our movie,” Trey says.

  “They still will, won’t they?” Cynthia asks.

  “Not at a big fancy premiere,” Abby says. “I even had my dress picked out.”

  “Tatang’s going to be so disappointed,” I say.

  I begin to cry—it gets Abby going, too.

  “Oh dear,” Cynthia says. She hugs both of us and others pat our shoulders.

  I wipe my face, take a deep breath, and straighten up in my chair. Maybe I can still fix things.

  “Do you think…,” I say. “Do you think you can help me convince Tatang not to move? He listens to all of you.”

  Cynthia takes a sip of her tea and looks out at the view, then back at me. “I’m so sorry, Kaia, but I don’t think Celestino will change his mind. It sounds like he’s had this plan for many years.”

  What was I even thinking, asking them that? I’ve stopped crying but my chest feels heavy. I still have to go home and tell Tatang that we lost.

  “I’d love it if you three would show us your movie.” One of the ladies leans forward. “We’ll make a night of it in the media room.”

  I try to return her smile. “That’s a good idea,” I say, and we finish up our tea in silence.

  After, Abby asks the group: “Can we take a picture—with our teacups—to remember the moment?”

  Abby poses everyone in front of the railing, the beach behind, the light hitting our faces. She grabs a portable tripod from her camera bag, sets everything up, and runs back over. “Okay, teacups and pinkies up!”

  Everyone laughs. It feels good to do that.

  I focus my gaze on the water again. I’ll have to disappoint my whole family, after all they did to help me. How will I break the news?

  * * *

  I take as long as I can to walk home and try to play Tatang’s noticing game to get my mind off things, but it’s too hard.

  The front door’s unlocked so I slip in as quietly as I can. I’m greeted with helium balloons in ocean colors and a vase of fluffy white and blue flowers on the dining table. There’s even a homemade sign: CONGRATULATIONS B IS FOR BAKUNAWA!

  It’s a party but with nothing to celebrate.

  I sprint to the stairs—maybe Tatang won’t see me—but out of nowhere he rushes in my direction with his arms flung out.

  “Well?” The smile lines pop around his eyes. The look he’s giving me—it’s the exact one I pictured for this moment. He’s even wearing a fancy Hawaiian shirt, like he was waiting to celebrate.

  I don’t know what to say.

  I want to tell him that we lost. Instead my lips turn up in a frozen smile.

  “Tatang, I—”

  His face softens. “Everything okay, anak?”

  Tell him, Kaia.

  “My group and I…well…we’re really excited about the red carpet premiere.”

  I can’t even do this part right.

  I’m not sure what he’s thinking because I keep my eyes focused on my feet.

  “I’m getting ready to meet Harold. How about joining us? On the way you can tell me more.”

  “Okay,” I say.

  We walk, slowly. Tatang looked so excited a few minutes ago but his face has turned more serious. He hangs his arm around my shoulder. “You’re pretty quiet. Everything okay?”

  Tell him now, Kaia.

  I try to find my strength but I’m too embarrassed. I wish I could burrow into a hole and never come out.

  “Sorry, it’s just that I…I’m a little tired.”

  He smiles at me. “I’m a good listener.”

  For the briefest moment I look up at him and we make eye contact—but I turn away. “Not right now. Can we…just walk?”

  Luckily, Tatang doesn’t say another word. We reach the spot where he’ll meet Harold, in front of a grand old brick hotel not far from the water.

  “Tatang, I do have something to tell you,” I say, but his phone rings.

  “Sorry, anak, let me get this. Harold must be running late.” He puts his phone to his ear.

  After. I’ll tell him after his call.

  “Is it okay if I wait in the lobby?” I ask, and he nods.

  Whenever my parents and I pass this building we take a quick walk inside. It’s the neatest place. I step in and look at the fireplaces and chandeliers, plush chairs and couches.

  Tatang appears by my side. “Harold’s got a cold so we’ll walk with him another time. The good news is that now I’m all ears.” He puts his hand on my shoulder and peers at me.

  “All righty, now lean your heads together, please!” says a woman nearby, holding a camera to her face. She reminds me a little of an older version of Abby.

  I point over to the couple getting photographed. “Look, it’s a Filipino wedding.”

  Tatang says, “How lovely!”

  The bride has blond hair swept up and topped with a flowing veil, and the groom has darker skin like mine and a face that seems familiar. That’s how I feel whenever I meet other Filipinos, as if we’re connected, because even though I don’t know them, I know some things about the place where we came from.

  We can tell it’s a Filipino wedding because of the traditional shirt some of the men are wearing. It’s called a barong, made from thin, ivory-colored fabric. Tatang, Uncle Roy, and Dad each have one that they wear to weddings and other family celebrations.

  The photographer snaps away while a frantic woman flits around the lobby clapping her hands and telling people to enter the ballroom for the mother-son dance. A gold badge pinned to her dress says Wedding Coordinator.

  “We’re starting soon!” She grabs Tatang’s elbow.

  I’m about to tell her we’re not with the wedding when Tatang says, “Why, thank you.” He gives me a secret smile, and we get pulled into another elegant room. Tatang and I stand in the back, looking at tables of people and flowers
and champagne glasses.

  “Tatang, we can’t be here,” I whisper.

  “It’s okay, we won’t stay. I love weddings. I just want to take one look.”

  Everyone clinks their forks against glasses for the bride and groom to kiss. An emcee announces the mother-son dance and the groom and his mother take the floor.

  A weird thought pops into my brain. If I ever get married, will Tatang be there?

  We watch people leave their tables to dance. Tatang taps me on the shoulder.

  “May I have this dance?”

  “I don’t know how to dance like that.”

  “It’s easy, just move to the music. Like this.” Tatang lifts my hands and places one on his shoulder and the other in his hand. We sway in circles.

  I close my eyes. If I ever get married, I’ll remember this moment.

  “Yoo-hoo! This way!” says the photographer, the camera flashing as we both look at her.

  We bust up. I take Tatang’s arm and we run all the way through the lobby back into the summer sun.

  * * *

  Outside, we’re still laughing. I want to keep this feeling forever.

  A woman holding shopping bags waves at us. As she gets closer, I realize it’s Eliza.

  “I thought that was you, Kaia.” She puts her bags down and juts a hand toward Tatang. “Hi, I’m Eliza Rodriguez, one of Kaia’s camp motivators. You must be her great-grandfather I’ve heard so much about.”

  “A pleasure to meet you,” he says in his most charming way. “Kaia and her team did an excellent job.”

  “They knocked it out of the park with their movie, that’s for sure,” she says. “Nice to run into you both. I’ll see you soon, Kaia.” Eliza walks away, shouting, “Gotta get going with my retail therapy!”

  “What great spirit your teacher has,” he says.

  I take a huge breath. “Tatang, we didn’t place in the contest.”

  He tilts my chin up so that our eyes meet. “What happened, Kaia?”

  “We lost, but I was too scared to tell you.”