Page 72 of Something in Between

Above all, be the heroine of your life, not the victim.

—NORA EPHRON

MOM AND DADhave been arguing nonstop about whether to petition for a deportation hearing. As important as that is to all of us, Royce’s return offers relief from the tension at my house. As soon as he gets back to Los Angeles, he picks me up in his father’s sweet little German sports car, which impresses my brothers to no end. He’s taking me out to dinner in Beverly Hills to celebrate our birthdays, like we’d originally planned.

I’m so excited to see him that I spent a longer time than usual doing my hair, fixing my makeup, trying and discarding every outfit until I found the perfect one.

He gets more handsome every time I see him. But today he looks even better than usual, because when he holds the car door open for me I notice he’s wearing the tie I bought him for Christmas. It has the flag of the Philippines on one side and the US flag on the other. He’s got it Philippines side out. The tie was one of those cheesy knickknacks my parents used to sell at Tito Sonny’s store. I thought Royce would find it funny, and I was right.

That’s what I love about him. Not that he’s taking me to a fancy dinner, but that he’s wearing the silly gift I gave him. He’s a good sport.

He gives me a long wolf whistle when I take off my sweater before sliding into the seat. I didn’t want my parents to see the dress I’m wearing, and I blush a little.

It’s a tight-fitting, low-cut, red knee-length cocktail dress that I bought at an after-Christmas sale. Lipstick to match. I was worried I couldn’t pull it off—I’ve never worn anything so outwardly sexy before—but he seems to like it. (Okay, he seems to like it a lot.)

“I didn’t think you would actually wear that tie,” I tell him, as he settles into the driver’s seat. It was just one of those whims. A self-pride moment. Okay, I admit it. I wanted the last laugh. I wanted him to go the extra mile for me, to be willing to be uncomfortable for my sake, to wear a funny tie to prove he cares for me. He’s doing a great job.

He fidgets with the tie. “I really like how the flip side is the US flag. It’s sort of like us.”

“Ha,” I say. “Have you thought about relocating to Manila?”

“I’ll go if you do,” he says lightly. And with the roar of the engine, we’re off.

* * *

When we’re at Spago, I tell him I’ve never been to a restaurant this fancy, other than the time I was in D.C. for the award. I’m a bit intimidated, but I feel more confident as the night goes on, especially since Royce is so self-assured that we belong there.

The waiter takes our order and leaves, and for a moment we kind of just stare at each other. Then we both look down and laugh. But there’s a slight distance between us now, and he’s not reaching for my hand across the table the way he used to. He’s all the way over there, and I’m all the way over here, and even though we’re easy with each other, it’s not quite the same.

“I’ll start,” he says. “Aspen was a bore.”

“Liar,” I say.

“No. Seriously. I was bored out of my mind. Have you ever felt that way? I mean, gone someplace really fun, someplace you always look forward to going, then when you get there, there’s sort of this big letdown?”

“Yeah, sort of, I guess.” I admit I’m kind of happy to hear this. If he’d had a great time I probably would have wanted to leave the table right then. “We haven’t seen each other in a while, and I was looking forward tothis. But are you disappointed now?” I ask, because I like to tease him.

“Right now I’m pretty much the farthest from disappointed anyone can be,” he says with a serious look on his face. “What about you?”

“Ditto,” I say.

He smiles. “It’s good to know I’m not such a disappointment to other people like I am to my dad.”

“He’s not disappointed in you!”

Royce shrugs. “He was when I told him I wanted to be a journalist.”

“Oh man, I’m sorry. If it helps, I’m always trying to please my parents too. It’s a Filipino thing.”

“Then I’m Filipino too.” He grins, the shadow leaving his face. “I’m wearing the tie, aren’t I?”

“Are your parents okay? You said they were fighting about Mason.”

He sighs. “Yeah, they just disagree on what to do about him. Mom thinks Dad should be harder on him, but Dad thinks Mason will shape up eventually. He wants him to transfer out of USC next year, but Mom thinks it’s better if he’s close to home.”

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“It’s all right. Like I said, it’s nothing new. They’ve been fighting about Mason for years now.”

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