Orchid House (36 page)

“The food, well, it's nothing like this. At least not where I live.”

“Is it mostly hamburgers and french fries?” Alice asked, and the others laughed.

“Our food is very different. Sometimes hamburgers, steak, and mashed potatoes. Usually a single vegetable, not mixed often in a sauce like this. There are ethnic restaurants—Mexican food is practically Californian food now. America is such a diverse mix of cultures that I'm sure in some families they do have meals like this. Just not mine.”

Francis asked seriously, “So are Hollywood movies accurate as to what America is like?”

Julia laughed this time, as they all looked at her questioningly. “I wouldn't go that far. Maybe some of them, somewhat. Is dinner together like this a normal thing here?”

“During holidays and fiestas. But not every night, not always,” Mara said.

“I usually eat alone. Well, now I do,” she said, then felt awkward. How suddenly far away that life felt again, as if not lived by her at all but by someone she'd once known.

This dinner, with these people, the breeze just touching the tallest palms, the air warm and filled with the sweet scent of the tropics and the smell of shellfish, roasted meat, rice, fruits, and the myriad of foods on the table—all this was more real than anything she'd known. Rich and alive and vibrant. The thought of her life in the past few years was like a faded painting, drained of nearly all the color.

Julia gazed at their faces, lit by the candles. Smiles and laughter, jesting in English but also in words she didn't know but didn't need to. Even Raul relaxed in the setting—though Julia noticed how often he glanced at Mara or chuckled at her stories. Aling Rosa had pushed back in her chair and leaned her head on Mang Berto's shoulder. Othaniel and Francis were tag-telling a story about getting caught driving one of Captain Morrison's cars to Manila for an international fireworks competition.

“When we got back, we pushed the car down the driveway so no one would hear the engine. And there was Mang Berto standing in the middle of the road with his hands on his hips.” Othaniel started laughing so hard at the memory he couldn't continue.

Mang Berto shook his head, a wide smile on his face, as Francis finished. “We thought he wouldn't notice one car missing—we picked out a car from the back of the garage. We were in so much trouble.”

Julia felt a deep sadness that this was her last meal with them, perhaps forever. She promised herself to come back soon, to be involved with the hacienda from afar as her grandfather had, but she wondered if it would really happen once she returned home.

One thing she knew for certain: her life didn't hold a future with Nathan. It would hurt him, and she regretted that. But there were some things a person couldn't go back from. And Julia knew there would be no going back from the changes wrought in her by this place—Hacienda Esperanza, the plantation of hope.

S
HE FOUND HIM IN THE OFFICE, WHERE HE HAD WORKED ALL
through the dinner with her cousins. “I didn't even know you were here until Raul told me as we were eating dessert,” she said. “I missed you.”

“I didn't want to be there for it,” Markus said.

By the look on his face, Julia knew what he meant. Once the cousins found out that the dinner wasn't just a meal together, but a farewell, it had turned into a time of very emotional good-byes.

Francis used every manipulation to try to keep her, finally saying, “This isn't over. I'm asking God to intervene.”

Julia fetched Markus a plate of paella and a glass of wine, which he savored slowly.

“You have brought life back to the hacienda, Julia. Just by your presence, and then with the orchid. It's rather amazing,” he said. “I wish I had been there with you at the cove.”

“Yes, I wish that too,” she said, at nearly a whisper.

He stood up abruptly. “Come with me.” He reached for her hand and led her through the house to the tall front doors and then outside. “There are no stars,” he said, looking up into the night as they stood side by side.

Without a word, they started walking hand in hand, a force of tingling between their entwined fingers. At the hacienda gates, Markus stopped and turned toward her. The small lights along the post and down the driveway reminded her of fireflies.

“What are we going to do?” Julia asked.

Markus touched the strands of hair that fell near her eye, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand. “I don't know.”

He stepped closer to her, and she caught his cologne or soap or perhaps it was just his presence, a surprising combination of warmth and strength and desire and intrigue. Her longing for his lips upon hers grew overpowering.

A smile replaced the same longing in his expression as he looked at her. “I want to kiss you. But it's hard when I know there are young eyes peering at us from the jungle.”

Their heads turned together, and some bushes moved slightly about fifty feet behind them.

Markus frowned. “I hope it wasn't Emman.”

“Why not?”

“He's in love with you too.”

She laughed a little. “He is?”

“Oh yes, he is. And we wouldn't want to hurt the kid, ruin him for life and for all other women.” Markus was joking, but not entirely. “Can you tell that sort of happened to me around his age?”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes. A girl broke my heart when I was twelve, and I've never recovered. Until now.”

“Uh-huh,” Julia said wryly.

“Hey, did you even notice what I said . . . that Emman is in love with you
too
?”

Julia nodded. “I noticed.”

“And you just ignored it?”

“I figured you'd say it if you really meant it.”

“Oh, I really mean it. Come here.” He pulled her around the outside wall that bordered the hacienda's main grounds and kissed her then, with a length and width like histories behind and a future before.

“I love you, Julia,” he whispered close to her ear. “How do I live without you now that I've found you?”

“I'm not supposed to go,” she said, and knew it was true. Grandfather Morrison had known it as well. “I will stay.”

He sighed and shook his head. “No, you have to go back. It isn't safe right now. But know this, Julia. I have fallen in love with you in a way that I've never known before.”

She felt it too, encompassed by this love that rose so surprising and true. When had it happened exactly? she wondered. It seemed to have started the moment they met, but only in retrospect did they see it. As if their souls had found each other, but their minds didn't realize until it was slowly revealed.

“I am in love with you too, Mr. Santos, my attorney-at-law.”

“As your attorney, I must advise you against falling in love with a Filipino man. Especially this particular one, who has fallen so deeply he will never want to let you go.”

“Then don't. Don't send me back.”

Markus groaned. “It doesn't make sense for this to happen now. If you stayed and something happened to you . . . Your family received a death threat! Those are not jokes here. You must go back to the States.”

So quickly, her happiness soured within her. How could she leave when she'd found this? “Then how do we give us a chance? Long-distance relationships are hard enough.”

“I will wait for you, find a way for us. But what about Nathan? It doesn't sound over between the two of you. You might change your mind when you get back.”

“It has been over with Nathan for a long time. Just lately, when it became a possibility, I was unsure. But being here, I know for certain that he and I are finished.”

Julia couldn't imagine being back in California now, away from the hacienda. “I don't want to go. And you know, if we are apart, you could be the one to change your mind.”

“No. If I commit to you, then I'm committed, Julia. It's just how I am. And I want to be the man . . . well, it's crazy to say all these things so quickly, and with you going in the morning.”

She came close to him and lifted her eyes to his. “Say them. Your words may be our chance to make it while apart. Let's say everything, and have those words to keep us strong until we're together again.”

H
E HEARD ABOUT IT WHEN HE WOKE. TONIGHT HE HAD PLANNED
to take night duty, but instead the news kept him in his hammock with his face turned toward the wall.

Emman couldn't believe Miss Julia was really leaving.

She was leaving without him.

M
ARKUS LEFT WHEN THEY RETURNED FROM THEIR NIGHT WALK
, saying it wasn't good-bye yet. He'd take her to her flight, but he needed to get all the final documents ready for her to sign first.She would have dual power over the hacienda, even though she'd be in the States. But until she left, they needed to keep that information private.

Mang Berto waited outside the car, shining the paint or windows from time to time as the engine idled smoothly. It was about six in the morning, but there was no dawn on the horizon and still no stars in the sky. Some of Julia's baggage had already been tucked inside the car's trunk.

Julia walked through the courtyard and then onto the lawn. There was no movement in the dense foliage. At least three children should be there, guarding their doña with the seriousness of secret service agents. But no one came out, even to say good-bye.

“Salamat, Emman,” she called toward the jungle. Still no movement at all.

The Tres Lolas had packed more things for her to take home to the States than Julia knew what to do with. As Raul carried the boxes to the car, Julia saw Emman come from the trees and jog toward the house, then down the side pathway to the back. He carried the rifle on his shoulder as naturally as any army soldier. He didn't look her way or wave his usual greeting, or grant a farewell.

Raul closed the trunk of the car. “Are you ready, Mang Berto?”

“Yes, we are ready,” he said, patting the door with his rag before opening the door for Julia.

The Tres Lolas and Aling Rosa hugged her with streams of tears falling down their faces. They hadn't spread the word far about her departure. It would cause too much attention and might compromise her safety further.

“We never made the Orchid Cake,” Lola Gloria said sadly.

“Make it for the cousins and for Markus. And we'll have it again when I return,” Julia said weakly, knowing none of them had much faith in that happening any time soon.

The car's engine came smoothly to life, and Emman suddenly appeared in the front yard. Julia looked for a way to roll down the window to say good-bye, but he turned away without smiling. She wondered if it was too dark or if the windows were too tinted to see in. Emman ran determinedly down the road and disappeared into the jungle.

Julia found the handle and rolled down the window, calling him too late. “What's Emman doing?”

“He took his job of protecting you very seriously,” Mang Berto answered simply.

Raul, sitting beside her, had no comment.

“Yes, I know. And he did his job well. So why won't he say good-bye?”

Mang Berto shrugged his shoulders. “Perhaps it is too painful.”

The car moved slowly down the driveway and through the gates to the hacienda house, then drove down the road. They approached the main iron gate to Hacienda Esperanza. Emman stood opposite the side of the security guard with a stern and worried expression.

“Mang Berto, please stop for a moment.”

Mang Berto pulled the car up beside the boy, and Julia stepped out.

“Good-bye, Emman.”

“Good-bye, Miss Julia.”

“I hope to be back soon. Is there anything from Manila or the States that I can send back to you?”

There came no response, no wide smile or acknowledgement of her. “Come now, Emman, don't be that way.”

Emman ran ahead again, his gun on his shoulder and out of sight.

“Well, should we proceed?” Mang Berto asked.

“In a moment.” Julia couldn't hide the disappointment in her voice.

Raul watched from the car. “He's from the Barangay. His life is here. It's an adventure when he goes to San Pablo.”

“I should have taken him to Manila. Maybe you or Markus could show him the city.”

The men didn't respond, and Julia returned to her seat in the vehicle. “Those kids should play and dream and, I don't know . . .be children, I guess.”

It was Mang Berto who replied. “There are no easy answers. I am sure for an American it is shocking. Even for most Filipinos it would be quite savage. But for us at the Hacienda Esperanza, it is different. Man was perhaps created equally, but he is not born equally. And each man must find his own place in his own station and take pride and honor in the life he has. Are your American children better humans or adults for living the American lifestyle?”

Julia thought of the stereotypes that were often sweepingly true: spoiled rich kids, undisciplined children, the allure of drugs in every rung of the social ladder. How were those lives better because instead of growing up with a wooden gun on their shoulders and learning respect and honor, those children played video games and soccer?

“I still can't get myself to like or accept it.”

Raul nodded. “It is understandable. Be careful with them, Miss Julia. Be careful with Emman and the others.”

How, exactly, was she to do that?

Julia recalled Emman standing solemnly in his cut-off pants and faded T-shirt by the hacienda gate. She tried to envision him in trendy jeans and a rock band T-shirt with a skateboard in his hand. She wondered even more what Emman would think of the skyscrapers of Manila, of an art exhibit by Picasso or Degas. The image was nearly impossible to conjure, yet it thrilled her despite her reservations.

“I guess we should go,” she said. As they drove away she looked back and saw Emman standing in the center of the road. He began running after them, and then they turned a corner and left the boy behind.