Page 100 of The Close-Up
“Your friend Simon seems very nice,anak.”
“He is.”
She flashes me a dubious look while leaning on the kitchen island. “You sure there’s not more going on with you two?”
I hesitate for a second. Had she asked me when we first walked in, I’d be in full-on denial mode. But right now? Right now I’m someplace else. Someplace happy and hopeful, where the idea of Simon and me together in the long term makes me giddy, where I can watch him fit into my family and not feel one ounce of panic or uncertainty.
“It’s complicated,” I finally say. I wince when I realize just how ominous that sounds.
A knowing smile dances on her lips. It’s the same look she used to give my brother and me as kids, when we thought we knew better about something, but she knew better all along.
“Mom. Come on. Don’t give me that look.”
She holds up a hand, the expression on her face a sort of feigned innocence. “I’m just saying, you two seem to like each other a lot. And so many of your aunties and uncles and cousins have come up to me today to say how cute you are together.”
I hesitate once more.
This time she holds up both hands. “That’s it! That’s all I’ll say.” She pats me on the shoulder before grabbing a nearby dishrag and wiping down the counter.
I turn to walk away, but then she starts up again.
“Okay, I’ll just say one more thing.”
I turn around to her.
“This is the happiest I’ve seen you with someone,anak. I’ve never seen you smile so much. You say you’re just friends, but you could have fooled me. It doesn’t look all that complicated from what I can see.”
Usually whenever Mom tries to pry into my dating life, I tell her I don’t want to talk about it because it’s such a disaster. Then she tells me to give love a chance, I roll my eyes or say something dismissive, and we bicker.
But her comment about Simon sends a wave of giddiness through me. It starts at my stomach and rises all the way to my chest. I walk out of the kitchen back into the living room and observe Simon chatting with Harper, who’s sitting next to him on the couch now. He’s genuinely happy to be here.
I walk over and hand him the beer. When he smiles up at me, the ache in my chest pulses and my face starts to warm. I’m thrown off at this feeling, this excitement and comfort that converges inside of me. Because if somehow, some way I could have it like this—Simon with me, fitting into my life so seamlessly—I’d want it. It would be perfect.
“Be back,” I say. “Gotta run to the restroom.”
I flit off to the hallway bathroom. I don’t really need to pee, I just need a moment to collect myself. This feeling—this realization that I’m willing to throw out the rule book, to take a real chance on Simon, is akin to feeling light-headed times ten. Am I having some sort of epiphany?
I reach for the doorknob but stop short when I hear Auntie Gigi on the other side of the door.
I start to back away, but then her voice breaks. She sniffles and lets out another cry before speaking rapidly in Ilocano. I freeze. I know I shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but I want to make sure she’s okay.
It takes a second for me to understand what she’s saying, she’s speaking so quickly. But when I do, my jaw drops.
“What do you think I did, Reuben? I lied for you, like I always do. You need to just figure out things on your end...”
There’s a long pause before she starts again.
“Well, what did you want me to tell them? That we can’t stand the sight of each other anymore?... Of course not... Look, they’ll be upset enough as it is when they find out about us splitting up. Just get your things and be out by the time I get back. That’s all I’m asking you to do.”
There’s another long pause, a few more sniffles, and a muttered curse. The door swings open.
Shit.
I register the look of heartbreak on her tear-soaked face and grab her hand in mine.
“How much did you hear?” she asks, wiping her nose with a tissue. Her tone is so broken, such a painful contrast to how cheery she sounded when I saw her visiting with family just minutes ago.
“Enough. I’m so sorry, auntie.”
