Page 31 of The Five Stages of Courting Dalisay Ramos

“Now you gotta prove it to her family.”

Evan puffs out his cheeks. “Family.” For some reason his heart pounds in his chest. Why is he so nervous about meetingher parents? “Can you at least tell me what kinds of things I need to do? Like, run a few errands?”

JM just chuckles and says, “Whatever they ask you to do, you do it. No complaints. Good luck, bro.”

He holds out his hand and he and Evan complete their elaborate handshake, one they crafted way back when they started Berkeley together before finals. Old habits die hard. Their good luck ritual never failed them before. Evan doesn’t want to think about the fact that he might need it today more than ever.

“Let’s get this over with. Thanks, man.” He gets out of the car and JM pulls away.

No one’s at the window, and he can’t see a shadow moving at the door, so Evan takes a beat to gather himself while he walks up to the house. As he smooths out the front of his sweatshirt, thinking he should have worn something nicer, he finds his palms are sweaty. Why is he so nervous? Is he really that worried about making a good impression on her family? Of course, he always wants to make a good impression. He’s a people pleaser. But for some reason, the idea that he’s meeting her parents makes the stages feel … real. He shakes his head and forces his heart to stop hammering in his chest.

At the door, he rings the bell and Daniel opens the door, greeting him with a big smile.

“Evan!” he says. “You’re right on time.”

“Oh, uh, okay!” Evan says. He didn’t know Daniel would be expecting him.

Daniel lets Evan inside and has him take off his shoes, leaving them on a rack full of others. The entry area leads to a split-level, one small set of stairs going up while a door nearbyleads to the garage. For a foyer, the entry is heavily decorated, with dozens of different kinds of crucifixes and family photos in gilded frames covering every inch of the diamond wallpaper. Based on their number, the Ramos family loves taking photos. Christmas, vacations, weddings, baby photos—each happy moment preserved. One thing is clear, the Ramos family is close. It occurs to Evan that he can’t remember ever seeing a framed family photo in his parents’ houses. They’re all saved on phones or computers. Daniel hands Evan a pair of slippers to wear in the house and beckons him up the stairs.

The main floor is even more decorated and lively than the entryway. Evan isn’t sure there is a single white object or straight line in the entire house. The first thing he sees is the kitchen and the living room. The smell of cooking onions and garlic washes over him, and a crowd of people—all women, Evan notices—are standing in the kitchen, yelling over one another. An old woman hunches over the kitchen island, tasting a pot of something steaming with a wooden spoon, and scowls, speaking quickly in Tagalog. A pregnant woman leans on the counter, her hand on the small of her back as she gesticulates wildly with the other hand as she tells Nicole a story. A toddler no taller than Evan’s knees crawls on the polished wood floor pushing a large fire truck. A woman with salt-and-pepper hair nearly trips over the toddler and she scolds him for getting underfoot. Five other older women chat and gossip, holding on to each other as they laugh.

To say the room is chaotic is an understatement. It’s loud. At first, Evan’s so overwhelmed by everything, his feet root to the spot.

“Evan’s here!” Daniel announces to the house.

Everyone spins around to look, then roars in approval. They descend upon him like a flock of birds.

“Finally!”

“What took you so long?”

“Open this for me.”

Someone hands him a jar of pickled papaya and without thinking, he twists it open and hands it back. He’s not even sure who it went to. It’s a flurry of introductions by Daniel.

“Evan, meet the family. Our cousins, who live out in Richmond—”

The gossiping women smoosh his cheeks and crow about how handsome he is, and his face goes hot as he remembers what JM talks about when he visits family in Cebu City.

“You remember Nicole,” Daniel continues.

Nicole appears, pats him on the cheek, and hands him a vacuum.

“This is our Lola.” Daniel gestures to the elderly woman. He can surmise that “Lola” is the Filipino word for “grandmother.” She elbows her way through the crowd and inspects Evan with a stern eye, like she might inspect a piece of furniture for scratch marks. In contrast to her glower, she wears a bright, floral button-up shirt and matching skirt. She says something in Tagalog, but Evan distinctly hears the word “Dalisay.”

Evan holds out his hand. “Mano po.I’m Evan.” Sure, he might be doing the Five Stages for a bet, but he’s determined to get it right. He’s done his research. He’s not phoning any of this in.

Whole-ass, like he promised.

Lola’s eyes widen, and she looks at his hand, then back at him. She takes his hand and shakes it. She says somethingelse, though it doesn’t have the bite it did before, and when she leaves, someone uses the opportunity to fill his empty arm with a toddler.

“This is Little Luis,” says Daniel, nodding at the squirming child, “and cousin Melinda.”

Melinda, the pregnant woman, looks like she’s about to collapse with exhaustion. “Baby needs changing,” she says.

Evan can smell it already, and his eyes start watering. Little Luis flails and cries, and Evan has to hold on to him for dear life; otherwise, the toddler will pancake onto the floor.

“The list, where’s the list!” the salt-and-pepper-haired woman in her sixties calls out. She’s got her arm in a sling, a cast on her wrist.

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