Cinderella's Diary

NINETEEN

NINETEEN

The garden party was exquisite. Christmas colors: silver, gold, green and red blinked among the trees. Some long ones hanging down the pine trees. Others coiled around their branches. They danced to Christmas medley without lyrics. If only they meant anything to me. Their beauty seemed empty. It had been a month and a half since I’ve seen Van. Christmas choir sang their carols for the entire De Vera family who were gathered this evening.

It spoke of elegance and sophistication. This was the world I was born into, fine titles, jewels and dancing. Every now and then a pair of boy and girl—would take the spotlight and slow dance. I watched with a distant look in my face. Naturally, I was situated in the presidential table with my parents. All known rich Filipino families are all here tonight. Waiting to talk of politics, business and women—while the women fished around for eligible bachelors. Though I hoped it wouldn’t be so--I was almost certain that Charles would show up. His family was already here, conversing with my parents. Julian looked absolutely like a prince. His tuxedo outlined the man he would grow into someday. It was a sea of cocktails and black tie. Bu they were nothing more than a bother to me.

“My dear Ella,” said momma “Why didn’t you wear the blue one?”

“I’m not feeling very festive,” I admitted “Besides, I like this white one better. Simple is always better in my opinion.”

“But you look so thin in that,” she clipped the deep v-cut of my front, not that there were any breasts visible. “You should a put a brooch here,” she advised and placed it there herself.

I smiled a little, “Thank you momma but I am not a teenager anymore,” I excused myself politely and went inside the house. The lights sparkled in a soft color—not too bright and not so dim. There were more dancing inside, hands and waists held, as their feet moved in time with their partners. I stopped awhile to appreciate the glorious moment. Then I headed upstairs to my room. I would have changed into my night clothes, if not for my phone ringing: “hello” I said when I picked up.

But the line went dead. No signal, so typical in my room. I faced the whole body mirror of my dresser. My long hair looked disheveled to its tips. Perhaps it needed some combing. So I took the brush from the table and brushed my long dark hair. Then I tied it in a clean ponytail. The missed call registered Charles’ name on it. Of course, I had no doubt he’ll be coming here. He was after all part of the elite families in the Philippines. From my balcony, I saw the twirl of Marian’s sea-green dress as Samuel twirled her, she went behind him. Putting her hands on his waist, and swayed along to the music. Other dancers did the same. Then, they stretched out their arms and walked forward. Salsa or tango—whatever it was—I’d have to join in sometime. But, because I didn’t have a date, I had some excuse.

I collapsed to my bed. New wrinkles appeared on my neatly pressed gown. The slit was thigh high, and if Van were here—he’d surely find something to cover it. Or make me change but I couldn’t care less now. He wasn’t here, and we weren’t together. I covered my face with the pillow. Sleep almost found me. Except, a high tune entered through the window. Curtains drew open. I pushed the handles outward and fully opened them. Surprised to recognize that “ave maria” piece, it sounded like Charles but at the same time not. When I looked down, he wasn’t who I thought it would be. But the sound was seemingly perfect. The tall tan man lifted his hood. Mike smiled at me from below, “Been awhile Ella,” he waved “hi” at me. If he was here, then, that would mean…

Someone opened my door. Sure enough, I found Mark bowing handsomely by the door. “A pleasure to meet your acquaintance again after a long time,” he opened his arms to me. And like a younger sister, I jumped toward him.