Love in All the Right Places (Chick Lit bundle) (8 page)

Chapter Nine

SOMETIMES THROUGHOUT the day, Gio would catch her scribbling into a small notebook. Other times, she would be staring intently at one scene, as if committing it to memory. She didn’t seem to be in her hiding or diving phase out here, which made her seem very relaxed. She even started talking about her family, which as far as Gio could tell, did not involve hoteliers or gambling debts.

After lunch, he took her to see a pottery village that produced red clay earthenware and one of the oldest churches in the province, whose limestone and coral façade still bore the year 1889 over its entrance. But when the day drew to an end, Gio drove her back to the jetty port before it got dark.

“I-ba-jay,” she pronounced, reading off a sign on their way home. “Wasn’t that mentioned in the letter?”

“
High
, not
jay
,” Gio corrected. “But yeah, this is the town where Caridad Melchor supposedly lived.”

“Aren’t we going?”

“It’ll be hard to do that,” he said. “We can’t just go driving through the streets and expect to stumble on it. I need to research and ask questions through the proper channels—” He glanced at her. “Besides, it’s getting late and I need to bring you back.”

“Are you tired?” she asked with some concern.

Gio sat up a little straighter. He was, especially since he wasn’t used to driving all day, but he wasn’t going to admit that. “No, I’m fine.”

“Well, good, because I’m not in any hurry,” Min Hee insisted. “Come on, Mr. Museum. Where’s your sense of discovery? We’re already here. Why not make the most of it? We can go to the town hall or something and ask around. If there’s one thing I’ve learned while spending time with you is that everyone knows everyone.”

She had a point. Caridad’s surname was recognizable, and if she had been the society girl that his grandmother said she was, then the municipal hall would be a good place to start. Partly convinced and partly because it was going to shut Min Hee up, Gio turned off the highway and headed to the town center.

Gio had intended to visit the civil registry or even the tourism office, but it was Min Hee who marched up to the list of councilors displayed on the wall. “Melchor,” she said, pointing to one.

“It’s not that easy,” he warned her. But apparently it was. Min Hee charmed her way so they could talk to the councilor. She turned out to be a distant relative and when Gio introduced himself and started talking about sketches, the woman gave them a local address.

“That’s where she lives,” she said.

“She’s still alive?” Gio asked.

“But very weak,” the councilor responded. “She might not see visitors but her family ought to be able to help.”

When they left the municipal hall, Min Hee looked quite smug. “Well, what did I tell you?”

“All right, you did well,” he said. “But I’ll give them a call in the morning. I don’t want to just show up at their home without any invitation.”

Min Hee nodded. “Makes sense. But promise me you’ll take me when you visit. I really want to see her, too.”

Gio glanced at her in surprise. “You do? Didn’t you think this was all boring?”

She flushed. “I took that back, didn’t I? I really had a nice time today.”

They continued to drive back in comfortable silence, until Gio chose to break it. “I’m glad you had fun. And I’m glad you came.”

“What else was I supposed to do?” she teased lightly, then paused. “I’m glad I came, too.”

* * * *

Despite his decision to call the Melchor family the next morning, Gio hadn’t done much to follow up. Work had gotten busier. Finally he resolved to close the museum early the next day so that he could schedule a meeting with Caridad Melchor’s family at around five in the afternoon. He figured that it was going to be easy for him to drop by since it was on his way home. But he had also made a promise to take Min Hee, so he gave her a call to let her know of his plans.

As he had expected, she insisted on coming. “But I won’t have a car with me. I can’t chauffeur you back to Boracay,” he reasoned out over the phone.

“I can find my way back,” she huffed.

“I can’t let you do that by yourself,” Gio told her. “I’d end up worrying about you.”

“That’s because you worry too much, Mr. Museum,” Min Hee said. “Just let me come and let me worry about myself.”

So that’s how it ended up that Min Hee was with him the next afternoon, sitting shoulder to shoulder with him in the cramped and non air-conditioned van. She was wearing her large sunglasses and huge hat again, until Gio pointed out that it was nearly dark. She finally took them off. She kept her steady chatter all the way to Ibajay, and Gio thought that maybe the other passengers breathed huge sighs of relief now that they had alighted.

It was easy to hire a tricycle that would bring them to Caridad Melchor’s home. It was near the town plaza, a large stone house done in elements that echoed mid-century modern style. The house had clearly seen better days. The paint was faded while the low gate was in disrepair. Two chickens squawked away at their approach.

Suddenly, Min Hee hesitated. “I changed my mind. What if she doesn’t want to be bothered?”

Gio looked at her incredulously. “But we’re already here! Besides, this was your idea.”

“I know but…maybe some things are better kept buried. Private.”In the afternoon light, she almost looked guilty.
But guilty about what?
“Maybe we shouldn’t go poking around things that others want to keep hidden.”

But too late, an older man was already stepping out to greet them. “You’re the museum boy? Come in, come in,” he said.

Inside the house was neat and very orderly. Shelves and tables were well dusted. Photographs and medals and newspaper clippings were hung on the walls, but towards the back, Gio spied larger watercolor landscapes. The man, who had introduced himself as Luis, turned out to be Caridad’s nephew and he ushered them inside.

“Nay Caring doesn’t see many visitors these days,” Luis apologized. “But we were really surprised to hear that someone had even learned of her paintings.”

Luis led them to a small room on the second floor, which seemed to have been used for storage. Gio and Min Hee carefully made their way in, cautious not to disturb anything. The paintings hadn’t been taken care of that well. Some canvases were propped up one against another on a wall, barely covered by a dusty blanket. A thick stock paper was still on an easel, with a half-finished still life of an embroidered shawl and a piña fan. Still, the detail on the artwork amazed Gio.

“And she never held a show, never exhibited her work?” he asked.

“No, not at all,” Luis replied.

Gio slowly thumbed through the canvases. He stopped when he saw a likeness of Former Governor Anding Torres. She had chosen warm watercolors against a vivid blue: a young man pushing a canoe outrigger. Anding Torres’ wide forehead and strong jaw were unmistakable, even if he had on a simple shirt rolled to his shoulders. To anyone who hadn’t known about the connection, the painting could have very well been about any local fisherman. But it was evident that the painter knew the subject very well and she had regarded him with much emotion.

“Gio,” Min Hee said behind him. She had pulled out a thick stack of papers. When Gio and Luis turned, she held out different beach landscapes. Gio instantly recognized Boracay. “And they’re all dated, too,” she murmured.

He faced the older man. “Sir, it’ll take a while for me to make the formal acquisitions for this, but I would really like to help you find a place for these. The Boracay Heritage Museum, for example, will be interested in these sketches. And in this one,” he stressed, pointing to the Anding Torres portrait. “Do you think it’s possible that—”

“I can’t make that decision for her,” Luis said. “You can talk to her now, of course. But there are days that she’s lucid. Some days when she’s difficult.”

“I don’t know….” Gio hesitated.

Min Hee tugged on his sleeve, forgetting her earlier misgivings. “You should see her, Gio. Now’s the best time to ask. You’re the best person to tell her what can happen to her artwork if she agrees.”

He thought it over before finally turning to Luis. “If you don’t think she’d mind…”

“We told her that you were coming yesterday,” the older man said. “I think she’s even expecting you.”

The three of them headed back downstairs. “She rarely comes out of her room now. She’s been bedridden for a few years, so if you want to talk to her, it will have to be inside.” He gestured towards the door closest to the stairs and the living room.

Luis stepped in first. “Nay Caring?”

Gio had expected to see a frail figure on a bed, but the woman inside had quick, bright eyes and a healthy color to her skin. She was leaning against a wooden frame, her eyes studying Gio and Min Hee.

“Good afternoon, Nay,” he said, taking the old woman’s hand and bringing it to his forehead. “Luis may have mentioned me. I’m Giovanni… Torres.” He watched her expression carefully but it didn’t change at his revelation. He turned to introduce Min Hee, who copied his earlier gesture.

“You don’t have the Torres forehead,” Nay Caring said.

“Distant relative,” he replied by way of apology.

“I’ll talk to the boy alone, Luis,” she addressed her nephew. Once Luis and Min Hee had both left, she motioned for Gio to sit down. The only place that was available was at the foot of the bed, so that’s where Gio settled. There was only a thin mat over the wooden bed, but Nay Caring didn’t seem to be bothered by it.

“How did you find out about the paintings?” she asked him.

“I’m arranging an exhibit of the governor’s things,” Gio answered. “I found out that the two of you would visit Boracay and that you painted him. Painted the island.”

Nay Caring looked wistful. “Do you know that I haven’t been back, not after he married Pilar?”

“He was your… beau?” Gio asked.

She laughed. “Oh, so old-fashioned! Yes, he was a sweetheart, but I had a lot of sweethearts, mind you. Anding and I… we both loved that island.”

“Your paintings are very good, Nay,” he said. “I would like to ask if you were willing to exhibit them at the museum. I could—”

“I doubt that Pilar Torres would like that idea,” Nay Caring answered. “Have you talked to her?”

Gio shook his head. “No. But their nephews and nieces run the museum.”

She sighed. “I’ve always wanted to give Anding one of the paintings. But we had a misunderstanding and we never really resolved it. He didn’t like that I was entertaining other suitors. But he never asked me, the silly man. I didn’t think he was jealous. The next thing I knew, he was marrying Pilar Mirasol. And I was alone. And that was that.”

The two of them talked some more, about how she began painting, the silly notions of what women were supposed to do then. She showed him some of the handkerchiefs she had woven—“a whim on my part; the family thought it was beneath me to weave,” she admitted—and then urged him to even bring some of the Boracay sketches with him.

“But you and Papang Anding… you never talked?”

“The man had pride,” Nay Caring said, but Gio suspected that the woman had her own, too. “But I would like to give his family the painting. Heaven knows what my nephew would do with those anyway. Probably gather more dust than it already has.”

Gio sat up straighter. “You’re
giving
us the painting?”

“I think Anding would have liked it.”

He leaned over and took the woman’s hand in his. “Thank you, Nay.”

When he stepped out, he saw Min Hee wiping her eyes. “What happened to you?”

“Dust,” she muttered.

“Eavesdropper,” he said.

He and Luis talked briefly about the painting. Gio decided that he’d pass by for it during one of his free days and then bring it to the museum. He also revealed that he would have to consider what to do about the other paintings. It was way past sunset when they got on a van. Min Hee boarded first then looked surprised when Gio sat beside her. “This is the way back to the jetty port, right? I thought you needed to go in the opposite direction,” Min Hee pointed out, sounding confused.

“I did.”

“Then why are you still here? I told you I could take care of myself.”

“And I told you I would worry,” he said simply. It wasn’t that she was a pretty foreigner that made him want to make sure she was all right. Gio just knew he wouldn’t forgive himself if something untoward happened to her on her way back.

Her answer was to roll her eyes. But she reached for his arm and gave it a soft squeeze.

At the port, Min Hee insisted on buying her own ticket for the crossing. “You don’t have to accompany me, Mr. Museum. Really, I can take care of myself. I’m glad you already brought me all the way here. Not a lot of guys would do that.”

Gio smiled. “Well, I really wouldn’t have made any progress today if it weren’t for you. Talking to Nay Caring and getting the painting… I couldn’t have done that by myself. So thank you.”

“You mean you needed me?” Min Hee had a teasing glint in her eye.