“How romantic.”
“Very,” he agrees, not picking up on the sarcasm.
“If it’s mutual…” I pause, trying to follow. “How does that go? You just decide to ask each other at the same time?”
“Well, your mom already knew I wanted to marry her. I was pretty sure very early on. I’d had a ring with me just in case, but I didn’t want to rush things since…”
I nod when we both leave Pa unsaid.
“I’ve known your mom for many years. From the first time I asked her out, Beth emphasized that her children came before anything else,” he adds. “Then one day, she asked me if I really saw myself marrying someone who already had two daughters. I told her yes. And then she asked me if I was capable of caring for you and Jackie like my own daughters; I told her I already did.”
Something inside my chest twists when I hear how sincere he sounds.
“Then she said marrying could be a good move for her girls. More stability and she didn’t want you to get affected about herbeing a single mom,” Dr. Derrick explains. “Your mom was… worried na nagkulang siya sa inyo by herself.”
Everything inside me immediately gets defensive. “Ma has done more than enough for us,” I argue.
“I agree.” He doesn’t deny it. “Families with a single good parent are better off than families with two bad ones.”
“So my mom asked you to marry her because of us… not because of you?”
“I’d like to think that I was a small factor.” He fills a paper cup from the chair’s faucet and leaves it by my side. There’s still this reflex that recoils at the idea of Dr. Derrick taking care of me, but I accept the water anyway.
“What are you gonna do now?” I ask him.
“I told your mom I still want to be with her.”
“Even if she never marries you?”
“As long as she’ll have me.” He sips from his cup, then adds, “Most importantly, if you’d have me.”
“Me?”
“Like you kids say, this is a safe space.” He sits with his legs crossed, ankle over knee. “I know you have some doubts about me and I want to improve.”
“Doubts? I don’t have any doubts?” I hear my voice getting increasingly pitchy.
Dr. Derrick keeps his gaze fixed on me.
“You promise you won’t take this out on my mom?”
He shakes his head and promises, “Safe space.”
That’s when I ask if he can pass me my bag.
“Do you have a secret list with your complaints about me?” he asks when I pull out my phone.
“Yes.”
His eyes widen at my answer, but he lets me go on.
“Point one: You take forever to make coffee.”
“Making a good cup of coffee is a process.”
“Yeah, let’s speed up the process,” I say firmly. “Point two: your gift-giving.”
“You didn’t like the Waterpik I gave you for Christmas?”
