Chapter 4

I am sweating profusely after getting off the ferry. The yellow blouse I am wearing is also soaked with my sweat. Luckily, I am wearing some pants, I feel a bit comfortable. The seaport is too crowded since it’s Friday. The pink suitcase I am carrying is still heavy. It’s really hard to get home to Sequim, a beautiful small town with about 65 miles west of Seattle.

The port was also too crowded. It’s five o’clock in the afternoon and rush hour. I have already booked a car rental but for some reason it has not arrived yet. A few minutes later, someone stops in front of me. A burly man, who looks like he is just my age, comes out of a white van. Heck, he is quite easy in the eyes.

The man smiles as he approaches me. Does he know me or is he really just obsessed with my beauty? Oh well, maybe he is just really like this to his potential passengers. As I continue staring at him, he starts scratching on his forehead.

“Betsy, it’s really you! It’s me, Calvin,” his friendly introduction.

It makes me confused so I start having deep thoughts. Calvin? Do I know this good looking man? Perhaps he can be a scammer for all I know!

I do not want to be a mad person and wrongfully accused him of something which he isn’t. I check in my memory bank if I know someone by Calvin’s name. I immediately stop thinking when all of a sudden the man shakes his booty with full vigor.

“Calvin Detroit Brown!” I gasp in astonishment. “It’s you! How are you?” I greet happily since I can definitely remember him. Thanks for his vigorous booty shake.

Okay. So hear is the backstory. Calvin was my first ever boyfriend when I was in my first year of high school. According to the gossips of my neighbors about me which surfaced around our small town, I would end up getting knocked up at an early age. My dad almost gave me a bald haircut due to my getting into an early relationship. Fortunately, it did not happen because Grandpa June forgot to sharpen Dad’s razor during that awful day.

Calvin has changed a lot, I’ve noticed. He used to be as thin as a twig back then. But now, seeing him, he seems he lives in the gym these days.

“I’m still handsome. Nothing has changed,” he replies jokingly. Or that’s what I like to think. “Come on. I’ll give you a ride home.”

I glance around the area despite the fact that the car rental I booked online isn’t still in the vicinity. “I’ve actually booked a car rental.” I sigh and give up. I face Calvin. “But I’m pretty sure he isn’t coming to pick me up so I guess I’ll take your offer.”

He nods enthusiastically and opens the car door for me. I slide inside. Calvin picks up the suitcase I was holding earlier and places it in the back of the taxi. After a few minutes, he goes inside the front seat. When we are both sitting comfortably, Calvin started the engine.

“How are you?” He picks up the conversation again while driving. His eyes are on the road.

“I’ve been busy working. You? Are you married yet?” I become curious.

“Yes, we have five children.” he replies happily. He sounds very proud as well.

“Wow! You’ve been busy!”

“How about you? I’ve heard you’ve been earning quite a lot. Maybe you’re a millionaire now,” he teases.

“Oh no, not yet. I’m only ten dollars short,” I joke back.

He burst out laughing and when he calms down he continues bombarding me with his questions. “How is your love life? Is there a lucky man yet?”

I know Calvin likes to gossip. So I decided not to tell him that my shameless ex-boyfriend left me because he said he was going to be a priest. But one day, I just saw him kissing someone else. What made matters worse, it’s also with another man. And there was my confidence, it packed up and climbed Mount Everest.

“None for now. It’s been eight months,” I reply instead.

Calvin cocks an eyebrow. “Are you serious? A beautiful and smart woman like you, still single?”

I can’t help it. My ego is boosting. I dramatically caressed my long wavy black hair.

“You’re too kind. I’m just . . . average looking.”

He guffaws.

Because our conversation becomes enjoyable, I did not notice the car stops in front of our house. I sigh and gets out of the car. Calvin follows suit and takes my suitcase from the back of the car.

I pay him the fare which takes almost half an hour because Calvin refuses to accept. But because of my persistence, he finally opens his palm and gives in. I say goodbye to my supposed first love.

The taxi finally leaves. I started entering the gate. My father, Klaus, who is currently wearing black sunshades at five o’clock in the afternoon, is seen in our front yard. His hair is shoulder length, definitely trying to embody his inner rock star. He is busy creating music again while holding his electric guitar. The sound of its blasting on the speakers is disturbing the quiet afternoon. Since he is too focused on what he is doing, he is unaware of my presence.

“There is a fire in the kitchen!” I shout to get his attention but still being ignored.

He continues strumming on his guitar as he closes his eyes. Feeling the moment as if he is having a concert on stage.

“The Queen has arrived!” I shout again at the top of my lungs.

The strumming suddenly stops and he slowly turns his head to where I am currently standing.

I can see his face changes. From being very passionate to a plastered grin on his mouth.

“Betsy! Why didn’t you say you were going home today? I should have picked you up,” he excitedly says and quickly walks towards me. He abandons his guitar. It is as if someone holds my heart when he finally gives me his attention and not on his guitar anymore.

“It’s fine, Dad,” I say. “You’re too busy giving a concert in here. In front of the mountains,” I add lamely as I gesture the wonderful natural scenery in front of us.

He shakes his head and just takes the suitcase which I’ve been dragging. We enter the house. The inside is really bright compared to my small apartment in Seattle. It has wider space and a bit old-fashioned. A happy place probably because of its yellow painted walls. Before Mom passed away, she made us promised to paint the house yellow. It was her final wish. That is why every time I go home, I feel like I am inside a banana peel. Well, at least it’s already ripe since it’s yellow.

“Where’s Grandpa?” I ask, referring to my ninety years old Filipino grandfather.

“He is near the lake. Fishing again,” Dad reply as he puts my suitcase beside the sofa.

I temporarily leave the living room and goes out of the house. Dad follows me. We both go at the back of the house and finally see Grandpa not in a far distance. He is sitting on the old chair again on the dock facing the water. A fishing rod on his hand is visible. I sigh and continue towards his location. When I reach him, he turns his head and finally sees me. He gives me his most genuine smile.

“Hey, we have a beautiful guest!” he says. His hand is holding the handle of his fishing rod so tight. He obviously doesn’t know me and is showing his illness again which is dementia. I do not feel bad though. It usually happens and I am used to it.

“How long have you been staying out here?” I exclaim as I climb on the dock and stand beside him.

“Betsy! So it’s you! Haha!” His voice raised in delight. He stands and taps me on my shoulder.

I hug him without any hesitation despite the fact that I can see he has no plans on letting go of his fishing rod. His clothes are cold so I am sure that he has been out here for quite some time. I have really missed him. I have not visited them for three months. He is the reason why I never forget my Filipino roots because of the culture that he still does. Like the cooking of the rice. Very Asian indeed.

After the embrace, I wipe my tears.

I straighten up and turn my gaze to Dad who is just looking at us. I can sense that he felt awkward earlier. Well, he doesn’t really like showing his emotions to others or his weakness. Obviously, he doesn’t want to ruin his reputation as a trying hard rock star.

I approach him and whisper. “Dad, didn’t I tell you not to allow him to stay out here for a long time? It’s not good for his health and air is cold.”

“You know him! When does he ever listen to me?” he reasons.

“Why are you still even whispering in there? It’s not like I could not hear you. I may have dementia but I’m not deaf,” Grandpa comments as he looks at us with annoyed expression on his face.

Dad and I are now at lost for words that is why Grandpa starts his usual rants.

“Can’t I have my own time and do whatever makes me happy? I’m not getting any younger. I have to enjoy my remaining days. This simple bond with nature is just my source of happiness.” He goes on and on.

Dad and I sigh at the same time. I guess we can really never change the way Grandpa thinks. I know that it has been hard for him ever since Mom, his daughter passed away. And no matter how long he’s been staying in this country, I know that he still misses home and that is the Philippines for him.

I look at the bucket besides the old wood chair. It is empty.

Grandpa clears his throat. “I let the fish go.” Of course he did.

“Anyway, I brought some souvenirs from my business trip to New York,” I announce changing the subject. “They’re in the suitcase and tomorrow,” I turn to Grandpa, “we have to go to town to buy those new dentures of yours.”

They already knew about my trip to New York last week. I told them that my company sent me there as a representative. I never told them the truth about the real reason why I went there which was to pretend to be someone else because I knew that they would definitely be against it.

“How about the new album of my favorite rock band? Have you bought it as well?” Dad inquire.

“Of course, I did. How could I not? You kept on bugging me about it.”

He chuckles and doesn’t protest. The three of us decided to go back inside the house because the wind is already chilly. I give them the souvenirs I bought and then we decide to have dinner afterwards.

We chat while we eat. This has been my favorite thing to do every time I visit them. Just a normal family thing to do. Sharing about our days and the update about my work. I will be back at work on Monday that is why I am making the most of my time with them.

Monday morning is the start of my working week. I quickly make my way inside the elevator because I am running late for work. I step on the tenth floor of the building and is now walking on the hallway. I am already ten minutes late. Somehow, I slept in and almost forgot that I have to work today. So much for a vacation.

Time check. 9: 30 in the morning! As I am making may way to the office, I notice some employees chatting on the corners. There is also a pile of supervisors from various departments who are discussing intensely near the balcony. I continue walking with curiosity and when I arrive in front of my office door, I meet with Pat, our department head. He is walking back and forth and seems to be in a deep thought. I can see a white folder on his right hand. His gaze turns to me and it darken. My entire system goes on red alert when he stops and gives his entire focus on me.

“Betsy Miller, you are ten minutes late!” he sharply accuses me. He even points a finger at me like I am some kind of a criminal.

Shit! I guess Terminator has caught me red handed this time! He really strictly monitors our work schedule. I try to calm myself down and gather some courage. I am able to show him my most innocent smile.

“Er . . . It’s because I just helped an old woman crossed the street earlier when I was on my way here, Pat,” I lie crossing my fingers behind. “She was having trouble carrying her bag of groceries. You see, any person would actually help in that kind of moment. Any decent person would.” I emphasize the last sentence.

Pat’s mouth is in a hard line. His jaw clenches as he regards me with a suspicious glare. My stomach is in a tight knot of fear.

“What a bull of excuse!” he growls. “Go inside and start taking calls. Our very important visitor will arrive any minute. Now!”

I continue staring at him in awe. He looks so red and is about to explode any seconds. Does he even have happy thoughts in his system?

When I suspects that he is about to spit fire again, I quickly turn away and hurriedly open the door and duck inside for safety. I catch my breath and try calming myself down. I observe my surrounding and notice that everyone is very busy taking calls. They are all sitting formally and all of their backs are straight. What the heck is going on?

They are all busy on their phones. Nobody is even paying attention to my entrance. Am I still in the right department? The air feels . . .weird. I feel like something bad is going to happen. And because of this, my heart is juddering in my chest. I can’t even think straight.

I resume walking towards my cubicle and see my best friend, Pam who is currently acting like the others. She sits very formal. She’s not even slouching on her seat which she normally does on a regular basis. Gosh. Everyone’s being abnormal.

I sigh and reach for my swivel chair. I take my seat and risk a glance at my colleagues one more time. Nothing has changed. I feel like they’re not even breathing anymore. It’s very surprising like maybe even if I pretend to choke out on my seat, no one would probably even care.

And then it finally hit me! I’m pretty sure it has something to do with our visitor today. Wait. Is Hitler our guest today?

I realize that I should not continue gawking at them and start doing something. If they are this serious then maybe this day is actually going to be very important and will become a part of history. I should do my part as well!

With a spurt of adrenalin, I find myself reaching for my phone. I start waiting for calls and act professionally. Maybe I can even get promoted after this!

The door suddenly opens and our department supervisor Benny enters. He is with the important visitor who is currently wearing a dark tailored suit. Now everybody’s attention is on them. Benny turns to the man beside him and all of our focus is now on the tall handsome man. He has a friendly smile but his eyes are cold. He has tanned skin, strong chiseled face. He looks clean shaven.

I could not help but stare. My gaze suddenly lands on his eyes again. The same electric blue eyes. Gone are his rugged clothes.

Oh my freaking bananas!

It’s him! It’s definitely him!

What the fuck is he doing here?

That can’t-

That can’t possibly be-

What the heck is this Rugged Guy doing here?