Authors: Rachelle Ayala
Tags: #FIC054000 FICTION / Asian American, #FIC043000 FICTION / Coming of Age, #filipino, #chick-lit, #second chance, #coming of age, #FIC044000 FICTION / Contemporary Women, #humor, #FIC027020 FICTION / Romance / Contemporary, #family drama, #new adult, #DRA005000 DRAMA / Asian / General
“But, Mr. Dee waited all week for
lechón
. Can’t we scrounge up something?” I scribble on my pad and shove it in his face. “Please?”
“Choco had a big order come through. Sorry.”
“Ah… ask her if she can change one of them.” I yank the order slip. “How about some chicken
katsu
instead?”
“Chicken
katsu
. Chicken
katsu
. Are you a lunatic?” He throws the order slip at me. “That is not a substitute any self-respecting Pinoy chef from CCA-Manila would approve of. Sorry.”
I fiddle through the rest of the orders. Table of four.
Lechón kawali
(pork),
bistek tagalog
(beef),
bangus sisig
(fish), crispy
dinuguan
(blood stew with crispy pork cubes). Meat eaters. Next. Table for two. Diet sodas.
Lechón kawali
and mango tofu salad—no pork, no shrimp. Ah… a meat eater and a vegetarian. Maybe they’ll take
kangkong
(water spinach) tofu, hold the
chorizo
(pork sausage) bits.
“How about this one?” I point at the slip.
“Genie’s table. You deal with it.”
I note the location.
Kare-kare
room table fifteen. They have to understand. Mr. Dee’s an old man. He gets a plate of
lechón kawali
every week. It’s the highlight of his existence. I can’t let two fru fru chicks hop over him because they want to “experience”
lechón
and waste most of it.
I corral Genie as she sashays to the soda fountain to refill her ice tea pitcher.
“You’re looking so pretty today.” I kiss her and smooth a curl over her forehead.
“What do you want?” She rolls her big, green eyes—another one of her recessive gene expressions.
“Table fifteen. Are they girls on a diet? Can I cadge the
lechón
for Mr. Dee? You know Mr. Dee, don’t you?”
“The geezer with the magnifier glasses and old golf cap?”
“Well, that’s one way to describe him, but he’s my friend and he kind of gets off on the
lechón
.”
“Ha, ha. Guess you always liked older men.” She smirks. “Sure, ask table fifteen yourself.”
“Thanks.” I press my black
barong
, female style mind you, over my black jeans and stride to the
kare-kare
room, table fifteen.
Ding dong! It’s Romeo and the blonde, screen name Mildred Venables. The only problem, she’s dolled up and looking nothing like a math nerd at UC San Diego, and he’s, well, he’s as smooth and spiff as any Pinoy actor has a right to be.
Too late. They see me. Romeo’s mouth turns down as if I’m exactly the wrong person he wants to see. Which, in a way, I am, because I’m about to pull his
lechón
. And honey, if you know Filipino men, you don’t pull
lechón
from a man, especially
lechón kawali
. Okay, maybe
lechón baboy
, the entire roast pig, is worth dying for. But
lechón kawali
, the pan-fried version, at least ranks a fist fight.
Considering the way he’s flaunting No Compute Barbie in front of me, I’ll take the risk.
I press on a saccharine no-sugar, all-Splenda smile.
“Hello, your server is temporarily serving other customers. Is there something I can get you?”
Tapioca balls up your nose, a longanisa sausage up your ahem, buko in your brain.
“Oh, we’re fine. Thanks.” Romeo clears his throat several times. “Evangeline, I’m not sure you’ve met Doris.”
Doris, as in Day? I raise an eyebrow. “Hello, nice to meet you. Has the binomial expansion factored into your universe yet?”
Doris gives me the Klingon stink eye. “What happened to your ice machine? My water’s lukewarm.”
Try holding it between your legs if you want it fugly cold.
I take her water. “Let me get you another glass. By the way, there’s a slight problem with your order.”
“Oh, really?” Doris turns to Romeo. “I told you I wanted to go somewhere else.”
He blanches, if that’s possibly for a deliciously tan man to do. “Let’s hear what the waitress has to say before you go ballistic.”
Yeah, like Klingon ballistic. I slide a sticky caramelized smile her direction, courtesy of the waitress.
“Actually, it’s the deep fried fatty pork belly. I’m afraid we’re out of it.”
“Oh, wonderful,” Doris chips in before Romeo can answer. “I would have been utterly disgusted watching you eat that dirty pig.”
She turns to me, the waitress. “Can you recommend a replacement? Something vegan?”
“Actually yes, may I suggest the mixed greens, water spinach, Chinese broccoli, straw mushrooms, with tofu? We’ll remove the spicy sausage garnish and dried shrimp paste, of course.”
Doris clasps her hands. “That will be perfect.”
I hardly dare to glance at Romeo. I can feel the waves of murderous hatred oozing from his pores. Instead, I take Doris’ water glass to the ice machine and fill it.
Genie reappears at my side with the iced tea pitcher.
“Everything taken care of,” I tell her. “They’ll take the vegetable delight, hold the sausage and shrimp paste.” I hand her the glass of ice. “For Bleachy Blonde.”
Genie narrows her eyes. “I’m going to slip lard into her food.”
“Do it, it’ll make her come back for more. Good for business.”
I saunter back to the kitchen and correct the order slips.
“
Lechón
crisis taken care of.” I wink at Carlos.
He winks back. “Go get them, tigress. I was peeking and you’ve got one steamed man out there. What’s he doing with Bike Thin Barbie?”
“
Kuya
?” I pat his arm. “Let’s forget about him. He’s no longer our Romeo. He’s a big movie star now.”
“I’m sorry. I know you had a crush on him. But hey, you think this means I can take you to Julia’s wedding?”
“Aren’t you taking Choco?” I grab a napkin and wipe the sweat off my face. The kitchen is hot, but stealing men from both of my sisters is not exactly how I envisioned my mental health break would turn out.
He yells at Danny who’s returned with the pork belly, then wipes his hands on his apron. “Choco and I are good friends. She wants me to take you so you won’t feel so left out when Romeo shows up with Genie.”
“I don’t believe this.” I slap the sides of my head. “I’m not a charity case. I don’t give a shit about Romeo. He and Genie can have a nice life. I’m going back to medical school in a few weeks.”
I surprise myself with this announcement. Really? I am? But I forge on when I spot Danny, Victor, and Thomas, the assistant cooks and bus boys craning their necks. My father would love to hear this and it might mean getting my grounding sentence removed.
“Yes,” I shout loudly enough to be heard over the sizzling oil and banging of pots and pans. “I have a special session set up with Dr. Chu, the anatomy professor. In exchange for helping him with his website and organizing all of his lectures, he’ll quiz me the rest of the summer and give me a passing grade.”
Okay, this is not a lie. Dr. Chu has been emailing me. I just haven’t responded.
“That’s great.” Carlos wraps his arms around me and kisses me on the cheek. “Our little Evie’s going to be a doctor. Mmwah!”
“Okay, okay, get back to cooking.” I push out of his arms. “Let me get Mr. Dee his
lechón
.”
Victor passes it to me. “
Lechón kawali
for Mr. Dee!”
I grab it and turn, stopping face to chest with a rather angry man. Romeo’s nostrils steam and his mouth is pressed in a thin line. His muscles bulge and he resembles a raging cartoon bull.
“Hey, no customers in the kitchen.” Carlos comes to the rescue.
Romeo stares him down but doesn’t move. Not even when Carlos waves a cleaver at him.
“That my
lechón
?” He makes a swipe for the plate.
“Sorry, Mr. Dee’s. Talk to your server.” I swing my hips past him.
He sticks to my side. “I did. She said you changed the order.”
“It’s for your own good. Helped you score points with Bulimic Barbie. She thinks you’re a vegan hero.” I push the swinging door open and run into Mama.
“Oh, there you are, Romeo,” Mama says. She’s focused on Romeo as if I don’t I even exist, so I keep walking.
“How come you didn’t tell me your mother’s in the hospital?” My mother’s voice carries and stops me in my tracks.
I’m afraid Mr. Dee’s
lechón
is getting cold, so I stick it under the warming lights and stalk Mama and Romeo back to the
kare-kare
side of the restaurant.
“She’s doing better,” he answers. “They installed a stent and she should be coming home tomorrow.”
“Oh, my,” my mother says. “And here I thought she wasn’t speaking to me. Will you let her know I’m praying for her?”
Heart attack? Tita Elena had a heart attack? Was it the morning Romeo walked out on me? Oh, shit. I should have let him explain.
“Of course, Tita Anna, the first person she asked for when she regained consciousness was you. Please visit. She doesn’t know why you haven’t stopped by yet.”
“Let me go now. Which hospital?”
“Mercy Hospital, I’ll call the nurse’s station and let them know you’re on your way.”
I hear kissing sounds as they say farewell, so I beat my way back to the warming lights for Mr. Dee’s
lechón
.
Gone. I gape around. Who took the
lechón
?
“Genie!” I yell as I make my way through the patio. “Where’s Mr. Dee’s
lechón
?”
“Mr. Dee left already.” She smirks, smacking her bubblegum. “The Sunshine bus showed up five minutes ago.”
She points to Doris Not-A-Good-Day sitting at table fifteen with a plate of
lechón
in front of her. “I told her we were out of tofu. So sorry.”
Romeo returns just in time for the Wrath of the Barbaric Barbie. She rises, Godzilla-like, with a loud shriek. In an epic display of female dominance, she picks up the plate of deep-fried
lechón
garnished with cilantro and lime and smashes it over Romeo’s head.
Owie, Chihuahua!
“Romeo, Romeo, wake up.” I wipe his face with a wet napkin while Choco sweeps up the broken plate and pork fragments.
Papa, ever the man in charge, has removed Doris Make-My-Day from the premises. A group of teenage boys are laughing over the video they took and Genie is busy knocking smartphones with them to get the video and exchanging contact information or phone viruses or whatever kids exchange these days.
“Romeo?” I hold an ice cube to his forehead where a lump is developing.
He groans and swats my hand, then his eyes open, unfocused.
Giggle. He’s definitely cute cross-eyed. But then, he’s cute whichever way I look. Swoon.
“Where am I? What happened?” His eyelids flutter. “Am I hurt?”
“You’ll be okay. You got hit by a flying pig.” I can’t help but smile at his confused expression.
He gingerly touches his forehead and tries to sit.
“Whoa, let me help.” I take full advantage of his incapacitated situation and swing his arm over my shoulder.
Genie is still flirting with the boys, so the coast is clear. I help Romeo stagger behind the beaded curtains to my parents’ office.
“Here, take a seat and I’ll get you an Aleve and a cup of water.” I guide him to my dad’s executive chair.
“Sure.” He wipes his eyes and rubs his head. “Did Doris leave?”
“Yeah, Papa escorted her out, but he didn’t call the police.”
I open my dad’s locker and extract the painkiller then step outside to grab a glass of water. Now that Romeo’s awake I need to figure out how to apologize to him for ruining his date. Not that I didn’t enjoy every minute of it. But he must be mortified.
Oh, and with his mother in the hospital, I feel even more guilty. He was probably driving her to the hospital and had no time to leave me a note. He even left me a bagel and coffee. I suck so bad.
Romeo has his head in his hands when I return. The dazed look is gone, replaced by raised eyebrows and pursed lips.
“Do you mind telling me why you messed around with my order?” He takes the pill from me and chases it with ice water.
I slide onto the desk in front of him. “Mr. Dee, you know, the old guy. He loves our
lechón
. It’s the highlight of his week.”
“You could have asked nicely. I would gladly give my
lechón
to Mr. Dee. You know that.” His voice is as polished as a schoolmaster’s and just as reasonable. It makes me feel even lower.
“I was also jealous,” I stammer, knowing there’s no escape. Romeo has always gotten the truth out of me, oftentimes with a single penetrating stare.
“Of Doris?” His voice exhibits surprise. “She’s my co-star.”
“Then why were you kissing her? And don’t lie. I saw you with my very own eyes while I was looking for my nonexistent contact lenses in the dumpster.” Oh boy, why can’t I keep my mouth in control?
He flaps his hands. “That was before I kissed you!”
“Then why did you bring her here today, after you kissed me?”
He rolls his eyes and juts his lower lip. “Breaking up with her, but looks like you and your sister did the job for me.”
“Good riddance, but she’s probably one of many relationships you have.” I wiggle my fingers to emphasize ‘relationships.’
“Why would you care? You hate me. You never want to see me again, and you were also supposed to text me about, you know.”
“I haven’t taken the pill yet.” I watch him carefully to gauge his response.
His expression is stony, but there’s a faint trace of, what? Not annoyance, but curiosity, or relief? In any case, his eyes open wider for a split second before resuming the focused scrutiny of me, the cornered rat.
“No worries,” he says. “Just let me know, okay?”
“Sure. I have to read the insert.”
“Of course. That’s wise.”
“I have seventy-two hours.”
“No pressure.”
“Well, I have to get back to work.” I swing my legs and jump off the desk.
“Sure, and I’m still hungry, but I’ll pay the bill.” He reaches in his jeans for his wallet.
“No, no. I ruined your meal. I’ll pay.”
He shoves a couple of twenties into my hands. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not.” I push the money at him. A surge of anger swells in my chest. “Why are you so judgmental of me?”