Chapter 3
What the hell happened to those three months?
Suddenly, I am just slapped in the face with the fact that I’ve got two weeks left to go before that blasted get-together and the wedding the following month. And Lorra hounding my heels for the nth time this week is not helping at all
“Hoy, don’t forget this Saturday’s get-together, okay? It’s at Plaza Ibarra along Quezon Avenue. Be there at five in the afternoon—sharp,” she says. I can hear the faint echo of people’s voices and some shuffling in the background. She must be at another media coverage or something.
I scribble a note on the printed manuscript and hand it over to Abby, my phone cradled between my head and shoulder. “Yes, yes, I got your texts and emails. I’m not going to bail out tomorrow.”
“You better. Or else.”
Sometimes I don’t know who’s worse when it comes to fussing: my best friend or my mother.
If three months flew by so quickly, so does the weekend.
I told Lorra to pick me up at my apartment so we could go together. I definitely don’t want to be the first one to arrive just in case he happens to be there early as well. When we get to Function Hall 1, the place is already buzzing with people, mostly with Alex and Nathan’s immediate family. I recognize their parents and siblings and go say my hellos to them before heading over to my friends.
“Oh my God, Erika!” Alex envelops me in a big bear hug, while her fiancé, Nathan, pats me on the shoulder. “I haven’t seen you in years! When did you cut your hair? You look great! We’re so glad you could make it.”
My friends have always known me to keep my hair long, but that day, I decide to skip the old look in favor of a new one in the hope that it would give me a lot more confidence to deal with the inevitable meeting with Richard. I still have a bad case of nerves, so I guess it’s not entirely a successful attempt to boost self-assurance.
Alex drones on about how I look, and despite fretting over me in the same way Lorra does, I just smile and let her do what she wants. We haven’t seen each other in such a long time, which is probably the reason why her comments are a little bit over the top.
“I really like your hair. You look younger with a shorter ‘do. God, I haven’t seen you in ages!” Alex gushes again.
“Thanks. My hairdresser accidentally cut more than half of my hair a couple of months ago. I threatened to tell his boss, so he prettified it up.”
She laughs. “Well, good call on your hairdresser chopping off the years of your face. You look amazing.”
I thank her then turn to Nathan. “Congrats, Nathan.” I lightly nudge his shoulder. “I’m happy for both of you.”
“Thanks,” Nathan scratches his head and smiles timidly. It’s quite amusing to see the very loud and boisterous Alex finally getting married to bashful Nathan after being such good friends and complete opposites of each other’s personalities. Looking at how happy they are right now, I feel somewhat sentimental that two of my oldest friends will soon spend a happy married life together.
After the many months that I haven’t seen Alex, I instantly notice that she’s just blooming with happiness. Alex is the most animated person in our group next to Mike, but today she’s just a picture of contentment. I’ve always thought Alex to be rambunctious and loud, but now that she’s transitioning to a new phase in her life, she seems so…Zen. I would never have thought to put the word Zen and Alex in one sentence.
I guess Nathan is a big influence in this new facet to her persona that I’ve never seen before. His demeanor has this calming effect on people and has inevitably pacified the uproarious side of Alex.
The function room is tastefully decorated with silver and blue drapes, elegant table setting, and gorgeous floral arrangements. I learn from Nathan that this event is for both their family and closest friends to get to know each other before the wedding.
By seven, the event is in full swing. I realize Alex and Nathan had this many family members when the entire hall gets filled with most of their relatives. DJ Jerome from Pop FM is hosting the event, and I have to say he’s quite witty enough to get the attention of the odd mix of bagets and oldies in the audience.
Oh and it doesn’t hurt that he’s cute, too. I find myself noticing how he practically stands out from the crowd with his tall frame and mestizo looks. His clean cut appearance— from his short, well-kept hair, almond eyes, fair complexion, down to his smart casual attire of dark jeans and polo shirt—makes most of the women in the room (myself included) look at him with open appreciation.
I’m back in my seat after a dance number with Lolo Felipe, Alex’s grandfather, just as Mike arrives. I wave him over to our table where I catch up with his stories about work. I look up from chatting with Mike to see Elaine being carted off to the dance floor by Lolo Felipe.
I have to admit, it’s kind of fun to be with everyone on such an occasion. I feel so left behind with how everyone is doing. For instance, I learn about Mike’s recent promotion from team leader to assistant operations manager. He works at one of the top BPO companies in the country.
“Hay naku, Erika. That’s yesterday’s news. You weren’t there when Mike treated us to dinner at Vikings,” Elaine says matter-of-factly after coming back from her dance.
Mike nods, taking a sip of flavored vodka. “Where were you back then? It’s very hard to get a hold of you these days. It’s a miracle Lorra was able to get you to be here; we really thought you’d skip this one out.”
I feel my face turn red. “Sorry guys, it’s just that I’ve been very busy at work that I had to take some of it home just to lessen the pile.” Well, it wasn’t completely a lie. I have been taking home some of the work, even if I didn’t need to.
“But hey, I got to hand it to you, girl,” Elaine nudges me on the side, her eyes gleaming mischievously. “That DJ has been eyeing you for quite a while.”
I blink. “Huh?”
Mike laughs. “Erika is the queen of the clueless when it comes to that.”
“I don’t get it. Is that a joke?” I have a rather slow pick up on jokes.
Elaine nudges me again, her mouth scrunching up to point to the direction of the stage. “Over there.”
I turn my head to where Elaine points out. I catch sight of the MC and our eyes meet for a second, and then he winks at me.
“Ha! Look at that! See, I told you that DJ has the hots for you.” Elaine exchanges high fives with Mike and they both have these knowing smiles on their faces. So much for subtlety.
“You guys are crazy.” I shake my head.
“I heard he’s a friend of Lorra’s. She’s the one who recommended the host for the party. You should ask her to introduce you,” says Elaine.
“You’re not dating anyone, right? Come on, what have you got to lose?” Mike prods, wiggling his bushy eyebrows.
I roll my eyes. These two have never changed—always teasing people whenever they get the chance.
“Hey, Lorra!” Mike waves to my best friend who’s standing near the hall entrance. She trots over to our table, her phone attached to her left ear.
“What?” she asks. She glances at her watch and frowns slightly.
“Aren’t you friends with the host?”
“Huh?”
“Aren’t you friends with the DJ?” Elaine points her lips to the direction of the said guy on the stage.
“Oh you mean Jerome? Yeah. He’s one of the DJs at the network. He’s great at hosting, so I referred him to Alex.” Lorra’s attention is, as usual, on her phone, probably checking for breaking assignments. Being a TV reporter may be glamorous for some, but I’m not envious of her job.
“I think your friend likes Erika over here,” Mike grins at his announcement.
Lorra looks up from her phone for the first time since the conversation. “What? Oh, you don’t want to be hooking up with Jerome. I mean, he’s a great DJ and stuff, but the guy’s a certified player.”
One of Mike’s eyebrows shoots up. “That bad, huh?”
Lorra nods. “His radio show is quite popular so he gets a lot of attention. I heard he was one of the reasons why Maja Salvador broke up with that racer dude.” After that hefty explanation, her attention shifts back to her Blackberry.
“Too bad Mr. DJ is bad news,” Mike sighs.
Elaine smiles mischievously. “Nothing wrong with playing with a little bit of fire, right?”
*****
I don’t know about Elaine, but I’m not up to play with the likes of Jerome. Why waste both our time? Some people may like that kind of chase, but I’ll just stick to my less complicated life, thank you very much.
I’m at the buffet table getting all giddy with the chocolate fondue when someone bumps me from the side, splattering some of the gooey chocolate onto my dress.
“Hey!” I turn to the klutz who bumped me, ready to say my piece, when I suddenly find myself staring at a pair of light brown eyes.
“Oh, sorry about that,” Jerome smiles, not looking apologetic at the slightest. He has this cocky grin that seriously makes me want to plant my fist in to his face.
He’s looking at my chest—no, leering at it—and my hand twitches with the urge to slap him senseless. “Excuse me?” I try to keep my voice from going an octave higher.
He seems to snap out of his pervert moment. “Oh umm…your dress,” he points absently at the area of my chest he was ogling a while ago. I look down to see that same spot stained with a splotch of chocolate.
Shit.
I turn to ask one of the waiters for a napkin to wipe the stain. Great, my dress is probably ruined and I don’t have a scarf or shawl to hide the mess.
“I’m really sorry.” He’s like an annoying fly following me around as I try to rectify the damage. As if his apologies would help.
I try my best to ignore him, but he just won’t buzz off.
“You know if you wash that with dishwashing soap, it would probably come off,” he says.
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Would you please just leave me alone?”
That gets him to back off. “Whoa. I said I’m sorry. No need to bite my head off.”
“You’re not helping either.” I furiously scrub the stain off, and although it lightened a little bit, the brownish color still looks very obvious on my peach-colored dress. Why do I have to be such a glutton and get myself in a situation like this?
Just then, I hear Alex squeal, which caused a huge commotion and got everyone craning their necks to her direction.
“Oh my God! Richard! It’s so good to see you!”
*****
Murphy’s Law couldn’t get any more appropriate than this.
I don’t know if it’s possible to feel the color drain from your cheeks, but at that moment, I probably got a lot paler than usual. I’m just sitting here, looking at everyone flock around Richard, with several giving him hugs, pats on the shoulder, and the occasional bro fist bump.
It feels so surreal to see him again after more than a decade of not even knowing if he’s alive or what. Now that I’m finally seeing him in the flesh, I’m not really sure what to feel at the moment.
For one thing, the years have been good to him. He still has this boyish look that betrays his age, his skin a bit more tanned than I remember, and wow, he’s a lot taller. He’s not even wearing glasses anymore. (I wonder if he’s wearing contacts or got LASIK.) Heck, is it possible for guys to have that blooming look as well? The only thing that’s a stark contrast to his mature look is his all-too-familiar mop of messy dark hair. I guess some things never change.
Everyone is just fawning over him—asking questions (mostly about how great he looks), giving him more hugs, and even more celebrity treatment. I just sit there, still not believing this is happening.
Time couldn’t have gone any slower at that moment.