The last six hours of my birthday was spent with my family. Kuya Eli gave mom a hand to prepare a small surprise at home. I gave him a big hand when he'd learned the ropes on how to cook fresh basil pesto, it was my favorite dish but made with his very own recipe. It tasted good, by the way. He was a real cook. A wife was all he needed, so he could move out of our house and start preparing mouth-watering meals for someone he loved.
It was also the first-time mom had baked a cake for this occasion. Dad was not able to come over for dinner. But I didn't mind, he called me up late at night to say his good wishes. He said we could meet sometime this week for a post-birthday celebration. I knew what the setup would be, we would be eating lunch or dinner in his preferred restaurant. There was no need to look at the menu, because dad would order those he liked, without asking if I was allergic to seafood or not. Despite being the flawed father, he was still my first love. He had shortcomings, but he was there every time I needed him. He was there on my very first birthday, on the day I learned to blow out the candles on my cake, and on every special day in my life. He might be absent this year on my birthday, but he was dad.
The meager celebration we had at home brought rapture to my heart. It would almost be the most special birthday I had so far if Rex had not forgotten about it. I waited until exactly midnight for his greeting. He did that last year when I almost expected him not to message at all. He called a minute before the special day ended.
We went straight home after his silly joke about Physical Education. On our car ride, we had not spoken that much. He would usually prattle or tell confidence that I'd never heard until we reached my place. That night was one of the strangest nights of my life. He talked if I asked questions, he just nodded if I needed his approval on a matter I brought up. That was how the car ride had been. I knew there was something he should have said but kept it to himself.
It was now past six in the morning. Eliseo the great barged into my room; he beat my alarm clock before the wake-up call. The mere reason he did that was to say that I must throw out the trash from last night's party.
Right now, I was walking along the garden path, trampling my feet on the stone and gravel which were scattered on the surface, while approaching the front gate. Under my breath, I was muttering profanities for my brother's rudeness. He could do this alone, maybe after lunchtime, yet he passed the work to me, his younger and only sister. This was the best post-birthday present he had given.
I could go back to bed after this and rest before preparing for work. All I needed to do was leave the garbage bag in front of our gate, and the trash collector would know what to do with it.
I swung the gate open, but it didn't produce a loud bang. Sadly, Eliseo, the great, couldn't hear how irritated I was.
"Hey, Conde."
I was astounded to see who was standing outside when I opened the front gate. The irritation I felt for my brother went away in an instant. Rex's face showed up, his smile was as bright as the morning sunshine; it was not an effigy nor a standee of him, it was Rex Asis. He had the I just got out of the bed look, and the sleep shorts and white t-shirt he was wearing was proof that he jumped out of bed without having a change of clothes.
I made a reply, though a bit astonished to see him looking like this. Rare image of a Rex Asis was now registered in my head. It was saved in the file folder with the title: Morning Look of Asis
I responded trying not to look wide-eyed by seeing him early this morning.
"Hey, Asis."
"Good morning," he said with a smile, staring back at me.
"There's nothing good in my morning. If you would please excuse me, I need to put this trash on the exact spot you're standing."
But he did not move, instead, he was handing over a paper bag to me.
"I'm sorry about yesterday," he apologized. "This came to our mailbox just this morning. When I ordered online, my purchases were not on hand, they asked me to wait for another day."
"What are you saying?"
"It so happened that your birthday was yesterday and not today."
His hand was still extended, and I was just looking at the paper bag hanging in his hand. It was wrapped with a gold ribbon; a card was attached to it. My name was handwritten on the card, that was his handwriting as I could see it from here.
I handed him the trash bag in exchange for the paper bag, without careful thought.
"I didn't forget your birthday; it was the last day I would cease to remember when I got Alzheimer's."
"Whatever you say."
His absence from my birthday was forgotten. I put it out of my head.
"Wouldn't you want to check what's inside of that?"
There was nothing I had in mind of what gift this could be. Last year, he gave me a beautifully wrapped box with canned goods inside of it; pink ribbons embellished each can. A year before that, I received a small, cute pink box which contained a can opener. Those were the best and memorable birthday presents I had so far. The surest thing Rex didn't give a damn about was gift-giving. He didn't take it seriously, for him it was a lark, or maybe he was just that generous (sarcasm implied) when he knew the gifts were intended for me. He quite got me with the pink ribbons. I always loved pink.
One thing was undoubtedly true, he thought flowers, chocolates, stuffed toys, along with whatever usual gifts girls received from guys, were cumbersome. So, he preferred to give small presents to everyone. I just hope that his mom, sister, and first girlfriend had put up with it.
"Cup noodles?" I asked before opening the bag.
"Beats me," he said and shrugged.
His enticing smile just made the idea worse of what could be inside. I wouldn't get my hopes high; I knew that extraordinary stuff was in here.
What could it be this time? Toothbrush, bath bombs, phone charger?
When I finally got a peek of what his present was, my eyes had all the reason to sparkle. Three books arranged in chronological order were waiting for my hand to touch them. He bought The 5th wave trilogy sci-fi novel by Rick Yancey for me, as a birthday present. I was out of words to say.
Last month, I came across The 5th Wave movie online. I got curious about its title and synopsis. Sci-fi and fantasy were my next preferred genre when it came to books, second to historical fiction, and romance. I did check its summary when I read that it was a post-apocalyptic sci-fi novel. After that, I watched the movie and talked about it with Rex. I told him that he should give it a watch; we shared movie recommendations along with new music releases from the respective artists that we look up to.
He did see the movie.
Rex said his brother, Perry, was a fan of Chloe Moretz (the girl protagonist), and Ayala was in love with the gorgeous Nick Robinson (the guy who played the role as Zombie, and the secret crush of Cassie, the character of Chloe). But it didn't cross my mind that he would buy these books as a birthday present for me.
"Please tell me these are real books and not just cut-outs or printed crap."
"See for yourself."
No way was the thought in my head while I was still checking if he was not playing hideous tricks this early morning.
I was opening one of the books, and it was real.
"Tell you what, I have a better jersey at home than that," he said.
Oh, shoot! I'd forgotten what I was wearing as bedclothes. I was not the pajamas type of person at night. Kuya Ely's unused jerseys were part of my closet as my nightclothes. I felt a sudden heat on my face, quite abashed that he noticed it. I tried to look relaxed.
"Shut up, Rex. I don't have time for that effing crap right now."
He was just smiling, "Hey, what should I do with this trash?"
"Take it home if you want. Have a nice day."
I turned my back on him. Walking back into the house, I left the gate open. It was up to Rex if he would go or stay. I heard him laugh.
"What are we having for breakfast?" he called out.
In a flash, he was now walking alongside me in the garden path. I noticed he was also wearing his bedroom slippers. Was he serious about getting out of his cave looking this way?
"Do you like it?" he asked.
"You don't have to give me gifts just so you could make my birthday special. A greeting is enough, Rex. It doesn't cost an arm and a leg."
"I don't mind spending a penny for you."
He never forgot how to use that coquettish remark on me. I hit him with the paper bag, "You don't have to pretend to forget my birthday because you couldn't give me something on that day, that doesn't make you a saint, but thanks," I said. "By the way, you look stunning," I joked, suppressing a laugh. Whatever it was that he was wearing, it suited him to a T.
To hide the smile that was about to form in my face, I hastily strode into the house. I found my brother was comfortably seated on the sectional sofa, drinking from his coffee cup, crossed legs in the figure four position, and a morning newspaper in one hand. He was quite good at pretending. He wasn't fond of morning papers, dad was. Reading the newspaper with that sitting position made him look like an old man waiting for breakfast to get served.
"You're welcome, Beelzebub," he uttered out of nowhere, gaze fixed on the reading material in hand.
"Thank you for tossing out the trash, Ivy," I alluded sarcastically.
He folded the morning paper and looked at me. "I'm talking to your guy," he said.
My guy, I thought. There was only one person whom he called my guy.
Confused, I looked over at Rex, he was grinning like an idiot, then he slowly threw his hands up in the air.
"I just asked him to wake you up. Disposing of trash was his idea," he confessed.
Eliseo the Great continued to pretend to read the newspaper. I knew he was hiding an evil smile somewhere on that page. All right, they won.
͡
Rex stayed in our house for another hour. While Kuya Ely was preparing breakfast, I was dressing up for work. I laid the books on my bed, would practically read one of them tonight, I said to myself. I also noticed a lot of bookmarks included. He made bookmarks just for me. I didn't know that he could draw. I just love every piece of it with my name on it. Double happiness had its way of making each of my birthdays remarkable.
I joined them in the kitchen after a while. I overheard them talking about brand new car models, which was in my brother's line of work. He was probably egging Rex to replace his pre-owned car with a new one.
Kuya Ely's breakfast specialty was set on the table before them: pancakes with blueberry syrup, burnt toasts, "perfect" sunny side up eggs (which was always present on chef Eliseo's breakfast menu). Cheesy bacon potatoes were also served, which was a bit extra, it was the first time he included those on his breakfast list.
Rex was seated next to Kuya Ely. I sat across them, making the seat beside me available for mom.
"I see you have prepared a special meal for your special friend," I pointed out.
"Rex is no special." my brother said.
"About the cheese bacon potatoes," Rex chimed in. "Mom made that for you, Ivy."
"I see you have received a special meal from a very special friend," said Kuya Ely.
I looked down on my plate to avoid eye contact with any of them. I started to feel my face turn red.
Mom entered the kitchen, morning paper in hand, glasses were placed in her head.
"Good morning, Eliza. Rex Asis, at your service," was his playful greeting, accompanied by a salute, when he saw my mother.
Eliza was his moniker for mom. Elizabeth was her real name, and Rex being the people person knew how to charm my mother. He was the only person calling her Eliza. She looked up and down at Rex.
"You're early for a sleepover, kid. How's your mom?"
"She still loves her garden more than us. I brought snake, zz, and spider plants with me today. Whew! I think I got the names right," he went on. "Mom wanted you to have them, but they're still in the back of the car."
"Surely you did. I'll call Rachel later to thank her. Ely, can you help Rex with the plants?"
Rachel was Rex's mom and a year older than my mother. She was a ballet instructor who had a green thumb. She had a fascination with plants and whatever green plant that could grow in her little garden. My mom and Rachel got along well, they seldom meet but they do call each other a lot. When was the first time that they met? Ah, college graduation and the rest, as they say, was history.
"Okidokie, Mom, just don't ask me to prune your garden."
Mom replied. "I won't. But you have to water the plants once in a while. Ivy and you will take turns."
My brother protested. "Aw, man. That's not my thing," he said.
Rex made fun of him because of that. I didn't complain, I loved helping mom grow her plants. It was stress relieving.
"Enjoy your breakfast, kids. I'm just in the TV room if you need anything."
Mom strode out of the kitchen after getting a slice of bread.
"Aren't you going to work?" I asked Rex.
He worked at an accounting firm owned by Angelo's father, he was one of our college friends, and the way he was dressed surely was not the appropriate office attire. It wasn't a weekend to be dressed as casual as this.
"I'm on leave for two days. Time to take a break from work," he said.
"He's going on a date for two days, but not with you," Ely butt in. "That's what he was trying to say."
"Nobody cares," I said.
"She doesn't get jealous, Ely, but thanks for trying."
There was no reason to feel that way. We were not committed to this; we both can freely see someone else. I wanted to blurt that out, but the idea was imprudent, not here, not today, maybe someday.
I appreciated his effort for coming over this early, for choosing the best books, for being himself in front of my family, and for not speaking of dad when mom was around.
He offered to drive me over to work. It was out of his way home, but he insisted. During the car ride, he became silent. A complete change in his mood. There was no balderdash, his car radio was quiet, and his phone was not in sight. He usually had his phone connected to the car stereo and then Marianas Trench songs would start to echo for the whole ride. But not the ride today, Rex seemed to be out of sorts. He looked exhausted and sleepy.
"You didn't get a good night's sleep?" I asked.
He wasn't up for a chit chat so I decided to talk.
"Nah, sorry for spacing out. Coffee is the culprit."
"When did you start drinking coffee?"
"Last night."
"What? You stayed up all night?"
"Yeah, literally."
"Is there something wrong?" I asked. I noticed he was acting strangely after leaving the house. Well, it was also a bit odd to see him here wearing his nightclothes inside of those t-shirts with cool designs.
"I didn't want to fall asleep."
He didn't do what?! He didn't want to fall asleep last night so he drank a cup of coffee?
"Rex, that's not a reasonable excuse."
"I know," he admitted. "I just have some random thought in mind."
He seemed so serious, so I tried to crack a joke to change the awkward atmosphere.
"Don't use that physical education joke on me."
"Not physical education this time, but it sounds like it. Medication."
"Medication?" I went on. "Are you sick?"
It took him a moment to answer.
"Tecumseh is," he said.
"How sick is he? Is he dying?"
He gave no answer. I realized that I said too much. I knew how much that little turtle meant to Rex just like his old turquoise, Benjie. I should not have asked that nasty question. Benjie went missing and now Tecumseh was sick. Rex had managed not to look over me while we were exchanging words. He knew how to make me smile yet he could also be the reason to be worried.
"Of course, Tecumseh's not going to die. You take good care of him; he'll get better soon."
I tried my best to sound so sincere with what I said.
He kept his thoughts to himself. I glanced at him for a while before looking out the window. Maybe he was not in the mood to talk so I let him be. Maybe Tecumseh was in a bad condition and that could be one of the reasons why he wasn't being himself. He loved animals, he loved his pet turtle very much.
"I'm sorry about Tecumseh. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, Rex."
"You're right. He's going to be okay."
The silence was intolerable. I kept on checking my phone for messages, but there were no new ones. I'd inspected my nails twice, and he was still not saying a word.
I sent Rachel a message thanking her for the bacon cheese potatoes. I also checked my schedule for this week.
"By the way, Sten and the others had reserved a table for tonight's dinner. We haven't seen them in a week, are you willing to join us?"
It seemed that he ran out of words to say, he just said, "Sure."
"Just to inform you, I was planning to enroll again in college. Maybe pursue teaching, the kids are my preferred students."
"Wow," he said. "That's great! You're going to be the best teacher I've ever known."
"That's so not you, Rex," I said. His voice didn't sound so enthusiastic at all. He would give compliments but not in that kind of way.
He took a deep breath and let it out. "Should I get a haircut?" he asked out of nowhere.
Rex hated to have his hair in a messy quiff, nor did he wanted to maintain a long hair; he would prefer to get a simple, regular, clean cut which suited his sense of style. It always gives him a good impression whenever he goes.
"You had it last week. Isn't it too early to get another?"
"Yeah, but I'm thinking of getting a new hairstyle," he went on. "Does bald look suit me? Can I still be attractive?"
"A buzz cut? Or semi bald?"
"Nope, just a plain bald haircut."
"Like Vin Diesel?"
He nodded, seriously looking over me. I looked at him, eyes wide.
"Rex, are you still half asleep? What's gotten in your mind?"
I tried to hold back my laughter by looking over the window. He hadn't had any reaction. I glanced at Rex, he seemed to be in deep thought and his countenance was portraying seriousness. His reply was unrelated to the question I just threw at him.
"You owe me two stories."
"And what are they?" I asked.
"The Infinite Sea and The Last Star."
Oh, great. He wanted me to read the second and third book of The Fifth Wave trilogy. Did he give it to me on purpose, so I could play the role of a storyteller in his life?
"Sure thing, when you're done reading The Iron Fey series."
The said fantasy series contained fifteen books. The last I heard from Rex, he was not done reading the fifth book. I lent him books, but he had nothing to let me borrow. Rex was not into reading, he just put up with my bookworm self.
He grunted and said, "My, I'm in love with a bibliophile."
I tried not to turn red. I glanced at him, certainly, three years ago that was not what he had said.
"You said you'd rather get back with your ex-girlfriend than date a bibliophile like me," I reminded him.
He grinned. "I must have been sleep-talking when I said that."
"You can hear it in silence. You can feel it on your way home. You can see it with the lights out. You are in love. True love."
~