FOUR

That night, I went home to my mother’s house.

The only light that was turned on was a soft lamp in the living room when I got in.

I walked towards her bedroom door. She looked like she’s peacefully sleeping in her bed. Her face looked pale.

I always felt sad about how she’d lost her beautiful hair to chemotherapy. She still looked beautiful, but frail. She looked disturbed. Like she was having a bad dream, or she was in pain.

“Gia?”

I turned to the soft call to my name.

“Nana,” I replied just as softly to the older, Asian woman standing by the open door.

Nana Maria was my nanny when I was young. We were doing fine until my father died in an accident. He was an accountant.

My mother was a housewife.

Life hadn’t been the same since then. Not very bad, but not easy either.

Nana Maria stayed, and we were able to maintain the mortgage to the house as my mother found one work after another.

Nana had her garden at the backyard that put herbs and veggies on the table for the three of us—she was such a good gardener and a great cook. She didn’t have any family except for those she had left in the Philippines, who had all their own lives now.

Then, my mom got sick.

I was already living in college. We didn’t know how long we could still keep the house. We were almost up to selling for equity and finding an apartment.

Nana Maria would lose her garden.

Mom wanted Nana Maria to retire in her country if she didn’t survive her cancer. I was old enough to take care of myself so I should be fine.

I could sell the house and use the money to find a better place somewhere else. She’d said New York had become too expensive.

I had always insisted, of course, that my mother would survive and what she was saying was nonsense. She was just on stage two when it was discovered but she delayed deciding on treatment.

She was supposed to get treated by radiotherapy then.

When she came back to the clinic, her cancer cells had metastasized. She had to undergo chemotherapy.

I told both women that if I was ever going to move anywhere, I would bring them with me.

Somewhere South. Nevada. In Las Vegas. Where we could save state tax, at least, and afford a bigger backyard for Nana Maria’s garden.

It was a dream, of course.

I could barely manage my mother’s medicine. I had a year more in college. We were going to lose the house. I almost couldn’t believe it.

I was a walking zombie at work because I really didn’t know what I was doing anymore.

But then came Bain and his ‘business’ proposition.

I was really trying hard to find something—anything—bad about him for the last three days.

But the more he talked, the more human he became.

And the more he got into my kind of vibe.

And now, I was in this house, with the two people who were most important to me, and we three would unravel if I didn’t do anything to solve the money problem.

My mother and Nana Maria, more like sisters to each other than employer-employee.

My mother could die, and Nana Maria would go away.

Just thinking about it was breaking my heart.

I knew I was going to accept Bain’s offer. For my mother, for Nana Maria, and so I could finish school.

I was going to accept it for the three of us.

I followed her motions to come and we walked out to the kitchen. She had started to heat water for her ginger tea. We were both very quiet, but the worry on her old, kindly face was telling me everything I needed to know.

“We need more pain meds for her?” I asked.

She nodded. “I am thinking of getting that housekeeping job–”

“No, Nana,” I said. Then smiled. “I may be going away for a month. I have this job that will be temporary but will pay a good sum. I’ll have an advance for the meds and the next treatment. I’ll come back before school starts.”

Her eyes lost a little bit of their weariness. “A better job? That’s good news! What is it about?”

I made up some story about traveling with a team of writers and doing research for them and getting paid for every hour I worked, which should pay better than my waitress gig.

“What about your classes?”

“I can manage it online until I come back. I’ve already talked to my professors. This is going to be like an apprenticeship and will be forwarded to my credits. As long as my grades and my papers are sent on time, I’ll be fine. They knew about mom.”

Nana’s smile was sad. “I’m trying to hold it off from telling you because your mother won’t let me. But she’s been skipping her medicine. I try supplementing it with medicinal herbs and good food, you know that, the way we do in the barrios in my country. But once her doctor finds this out again, they’d say I’m illegally medicating. What is wrong with nutritious vegetables? I’ve been telling your mother to stop with that processed meat and that food that are always in bottles and plastics. She wouldn’t listen! Didn’t I tell her again and again?”

“I’m sorry, Nana. You wouldn’t have to do this and work for free at the same time if—”

“Don’t worry about it,” she says as she reached for my hand and held it, squeezing it softly inside both of hers. “We’re going to be fine. The Lord is just testing us. Don’t we always come out of any troubles, always?”

“I’m not sure what I’ll do if Mom…”

I started to cry softly. And Nana lets me. She and my mom have taught me about strength, and crying when you’re weak, and being with each other until you could stop crying.

I felt guilty, somehow, about hesitating when it was so easy to make the decision. Nana Maria had wanted to keep house for another to help this house.

What was I thinking? How dare I?

I went back to my place that night. I didn’t even look at the folders I had printed the night before that I hadn’t finished looking into.

Bain would have my official answer tomorrow.

And it would be his expected, resounding ‘Yes.’