“Capsule coffee? I would never.” Jay scoffed, ignoring the little tug in the empty cavity that presumably housed his heart. Suddenly he knew exactly what his sister was doing, could practically picture her with a box in one hand and her phone tucked under her ear as she stared at the fire engine red Nespresso machine. “Isn’t the coffee machine a more late-stage packing thing? You guys aren’t moving until May.”
“Well, I was panicking about it earlier,” Ate Irene started. Jay leaned against the nearby pillar to listen, blowing a stray strand of hair out of his face. “And I called Nige, and he said I just needed to make a plan. So I made a Gantt chart.”
“Of course.” Jay wanted to laugh. Ate Irene liked charts—they helped her make big things seem smaller, actionable. They had several lying around the house, a memorable one in particular marked “Operation Baby Girl 2020” from when they realized that Ate Irene was going to have a pandemic baby in the middle of…well, the pandemic. A timeline of all the steps that needed to be taken to complete a project had been a lifesaver then. Makes sense she would make one now. “And the Gantt chart said ‘pack the coffee machine’?”
“Something like that.” He practically heard his Ate collapse into a chair with a deep sigh. Irene was three years older than him, but they had always considered themselves close. They knew how to speak to each other without actually saying what they meant. Like this conversation, for example.
“How’s the wedding?” Ate Irene asked. Translation,Will you be okay if we move away?
“It’s great. Hey, I apologized to Mara Barretto.”I’ll be fine, Ate. You have to trust me, even if I don’t totally believe it yet. I won’t hold you back.“I think she accepted it.”
“You’ve always been hard to say no to, Jay.” She made it sound like a bad thing.We can stay if you want us to.
“Hey, I made excellent points. I groveled well.”Don’t stay for me.
“Uh-huh. And Marina and David, they’re happily married? No protests, objections from the crowd?”
“Documents were signed and notarized, and the wedding was drama free. They’re together forever,” he said. And if there was any bitterness in his voice, it wasn’t because he was jealous, or sad. It was just… “Have you ever thought about how two people deciding to be together implies that someone had to be left behind in order for them to be together?”
There was a pause on the line. Jay could pretend it was because it took a while for a message to reach from the highlands of Tagaytay to an apartment in Pasig City, but he knew better.
“Are we still talking about the wedding?” Ate Irene asked.Or are we talking about the fact that Luna and I are moving away from you?
See, Jay and Irene Montinola were experts at saying things, without actually saying much. Jay didn’t quite feel like facing it yet—that he’d reshaped and reframed his entire life around his family, only to find out that it wasn’t going to be forever. But the Montinola siblings could hold off the emotional processing for another time. They should probably add it to the Gantt chart.
“Maybe.” He sighed. “You know the bank is asking if I was going back to Hong Kong.”
“Oh?” Ate Irene sounded like she was trying really hard to sound disinterested. “I thought you changed your status to freelancer so you never had to RTO?”
I did that when I thought you needed help raising Luna.“I did, but they can reinstate me to an analyst position if I want.” It wasn’t a terrible life out there. It was expensive, but Hong Kong had its delights and pleasures. Completely different from the ones in Manila, of course. But it wasn’t wholly unfamiliar to him. “I’m negotiating a raise. Although I’m sure Hong Kong’s only gotten more expensive since the pandemic.”
“I bet,” Ate Irene agreed. “Well…something for you to think about, I guess.”Are you really going to go?
“Yeah. I’ll be home tonight,” he assured his sister. “Late nga lang. Is Luna down?”
“Only after some bribery and a promise that her ‘Nong would be there in the morning.” Ate Irene snorted, and Jay’s voice caught in his throat suddenly, but he didn’t want to think or talk about why. “I should let you get back to the wedding.”I love you.
“Should I attempt to catch the garter?” Jay mused, tucking his hand in his pocket and fiddling with the buttons on his camera. It helped.Love you, too, Ate.
“Don’t!” Irene laughed. “Between your powerful as fuck first kiss—”
“Ate you shouldn’t swear when Luna is in the next room.”
“—and the possibility of sukob, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“I don’t really see myself getting married this year.”Or ever.“You should be safe.”
“Yeah, but you don’t want to mess with that wedding mojo, you know?” Ate Irene asked him. “Weddings are a hotbed of emotions. Things we hide feel like they must come to the surface, because two people were brave enough to say out loud that they were in love, that they were going to stay in love.”
“Is that what love is? Bravery?”
“Love is closing your eyes and hoping for the best. But you have someone’s hand to hold, so it’s not so scary. So I guess yes, it’s bravery. But weddings are love, bravery and alcohol. Bad combinations all around. You can’t really trust that anyone’s going to make a good emotional decision in that ballroom.”Especially someone who is deciding if he’s moving away again.
“That’s reassuring, coming from someone who is getting married in, how many Gantt chart steps?” Jay teased, chuckling. He looked up and saw that the moon was full and bright tonight. Lighting up Luisa’s parking lot and making the fountain in front of him look like fireworks. A good night to have a first kiss with someone.
“Hey, the bride and groom actually had time to make their emotional decisions,” Irene pointed out. “Everyone else that follows is just swept up in a moment.”
* * *
