Page 37 of The Five Stages of Courting Dalisay Ramos

“No!” she says. “Don’t cut yourself!”

Evan repeats his apology, over and over. “I’m so sorry. I’ll pay for it. It’s my fault—”

Everyone in the room assures him that it’s nothing to fret about, but Evan feels like they’re only saying it to be polite, maybe to make him feel better. Guilt crushes him like a ten-ton weight on his chest. He’s a complete oaf, and they trusted him with a family heirloom.

While Mrs. Ramos and Daniel hurry off to get a broom and dustpan and the vacuum, Evan kneels to pick up the pieces. Most of the shell has shattered into bits, but he does what he can to gather the larger fragments into his palm.

Dalisay kneels next to him and helps.

“I’m so sorry,” he says again.

“It’s okay, really.”

He can’t bear to look at her. He has to fix this somehow. Memories of being a little kid again, scrambling to piece together his mom’s favorite vase because he was tossing a baseball in the house when he knew he wasn’t supposed to. And knowing how angry she’d be with him, that she had enough problems to deal with already, and thinking that it was his fault his parents got divorced—

Panic bubbles up. He can’t breathe.

“Hey, look at me,” Dalisay says. Her dimples come out when she smiles. “It’s just aparol.”

Evan feels helpless. He swallows thickly. “What about Little Luis—?”

“He’s fine,” Dalisay says, smiling assuredly. She reaches out and touches his wrist, and the warmth of her fingers makes Evan’s breath catch in his throat. “You’re okay too. No one’s angry. I promise.”

Looking into Dalisay’s dark eyes, Evan forces himself to breathe, hissing between pursed lips. Dalisay’s fingers slowly slip off his arm. He misses their heat right away. “Sorry,” he says. He’s got more than one thing to be sorry about.

Whether she understands or not, Dalisay simply nods, still smiling, and helps him clean up without another word.

CHAPTER TEN

Dalisay ties off the final balloon with string and adds it to the bundle already tied to the back of the chair.

“Who decided on the fiesta theme?” Daniel asks, hefting a stack of chairs across the hall. It’s Melinda’s baby shower and everyone’s been tasked with helping set up St. Mary’s recreation hall for the big event, a seemingly all-hands-on-deck sort of emergency, so the shower can happen before everyone is occupied for the holidays.

“It is a little odd for a baby shower,” Dalisay admits. “But it’s Bernila’s vision!”

Bernila, Melinda’s best and extraordinarily loud friend, is in charge of everything. She is a taskmaster, putting everyone to work to get the place ready for fifty guests. Evan, fortunately, is spared the servitude. After his near panic attack with theparol, Dalisay is glad the family is giving him a day off.

She wishesshecould get a day off, but she’d rather die than admit it out loud.

Working at Overnight is exhausting. American work culture is a lot more demanding than she ever expected. After spending eight hours at the office, sometimes she comes home to do even more work, on the weekends sometimes too; checks her work email on her phone in the middle of the night; isalways aware of the unspoken rule that she must be reachable at all times, especially before deadlines.

In Manila, there is a concept calledpakikisama, the closest English translation being “camaraderie,” and it’s a foundational part of office life. Teamwork and cohesion and social harmony. It’s a value she’s brought with her since starting at Overnight, but in America, office life is a lot more individualistic. Everyone seems to be looking out only for themselves, but Dalisay still feels the need to go above and beyond to make sure that everyone in the office is happy, pulling extra weight just to ensure that everything gets done. She truly stands by the concept that if the company looks good, everyone looks good. She will not be the weak link in the chain, even if it means she has to sacrifice her own free time to do it.

She barely feels like she gets any time to breathe anymore, with both work and home responsibilities. But Evan coming over to the house for Servitude has been more helpful than she cares to admit. She’s grateful, truly.

Her mom sets up games, like a blindfolded diaper-changing challenge and a baby bump balloon pop; Daniel raises a pacifier-shaped piñata on a rope in the corner of the room; and Lola brings out the ice-cream cake, and tells Melinda not to eat any. “Cold food equals big baby!”

Melinda holds her belly. “It’s too late for that, Lola!”

The party hasn’t even started, and yet Little Luis is taking full advantage of the fact that Melinda is so pregnant and about ready to burst that all she can do is sit on a chair and scold him from afar. He runs through the empty church hall, whacking anyone unfortunate enough to stand nearby with the piñata stick.

“Perhaps a fiesta was not the best decision,” Dalisay says, wincing, as Little Luis thwacks her in the back of the knees.

“Come here, you!” Daniel growls and chases after Little Luis, grabbing him by the torso and putting him under his arm like a football. “You are being a monster.”

“Monster! Monster!” Little Luis squeals and struggles to escape, but he’s no match for Daniel, who plops him down on a chair near Melinda, telling him he’s in timeout, and Little Luis screams. His tiny but powerful voice echoes off the walls.

See, Evan?she thinks.He’s perfectly fine.

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