Love in All the Right Places (Chick Lit bundle) (5 page)

“Are you inviting me back?” Min Hee asked, pulling the goggles down her face and giving Gio a view of her cocked eyebrow.

“Do you want me to?” he countered.

“I don’t mind,” she murmured. “I think every girl should just go on vacation and reinvent herself. No questions asked. No explanations necessary.” For a moment, her expression darkened but she shook it away. “Just start from scratch. Be a blank slate instead of having to live up to what people expect her to be, and then suddenly she’s a new person.” She smiled almost lazily. “That’s what every break should be like.”

A steady throttling sound over the water announced the presence of another outrigger. The boat was still a good distance away, but it was heading to where they were. Gio could already hear voices raised in excitement. Korean, he figured. They pointed in their direction, cameras at the ready to take in the scene.

“You know those people?” he asked Min Hee, only to hear a splash behind him.

He turned to see her paddling away. Gio wondered what prompted her to dive without her gear and swim away, when she had been so wary about snorkeling when they first arrived. “Min Hee?”

She emerged from the water near the tip of their boat, on the side facing away from the new outrigger. She floundered a bit and Gio instantly remembered what she had said about not being a good swimmer. He didn’t hesitate; he dove in after her. In a few powerful strokes, he was there by her side. He propped her up by her arms. There was some faint panic in her eyes but she relaxed against him when she saw who it was.

“Are you okay?” he demanded.

She didn’t reply right away. Instead, she immediately put on her goggles, as if she had just remembered that they had been around her neck all along.

“Min Hee?” he repeated.

“Shhh, not too loud,” she told him.

Gio was confused. “What, your name?”

“I’m hiding from gangsters who want me to work off my father’s gambling debt,” she said with a cheeky wink. “They’re in that other boat.”

For a brief moment, he had a flash of Min Hee running down dark alleys in Seoul, trying to evade men with guns and tattoos. But then he regarded her seriously. After nearly scaring him, that was all she was going to say? “What’s wrong? Or you’re really not going to tell me, are you?”

“What?” she protested. “I just did. Now how about feeding the fish over here? Or maybe we can just go. I’ve had enough of this place.” She paddled towards the bamboo outrigger and tried to pull herself up.

Gio sighed and followed suit. And just like that, the subject was closed.

Chapter Six

AFTER SNORKELING, they continued their
banca
ride around the island. Min Hee seemed quite content with the muffins he had bought, taking larger bites when she thought he wasn’t looking. She made no mention of the incident earlier, so he didn’t either. He just asked the skipper to drop anchor at Yapak and Puka Shell Beach on the northern side for lunch. What he didn’t tell her was that there were also Torreses here; a distant relative named Genrose Ureta (nee Torres) ran a small eatery just down the road. He used to eat here when he was in the area, often when he was younger, but that had changed over the years. Still, Genrose and her family (her father Gener and her mother Rose, thus her unique name) welcomed him as if he were a close relative.

“I heard you were doing an exhibit on Governor Anding,” Genrose said. At his surprised look, she laughed. “Oh, don’t be so surprised. You know how word gets around. My lolo said he used to come here often, before he became a statesman. Of course Boracay wasn’t Boracay then, and Lolo still lived in Malay. But he would take his boat to bring Governor Anding here once in a while. Even had a pretty girl with him.”

“You mean Mamang Pilar?” Gio clarified, naming Ex-Governor Torres’ wife.

Genrose shook her head. “No, not her. Someone else. I’m sorry I can’t remember her name. Lolo always said she was a talented woman. She spent the time here writing or painting or some such activity, which wasn’t too common around these parts at that time.”

Something in Gio’s brain told him to leave well enough alone. He had all the information he needed about for the Torres exhibit. Sir Frank and the committee made sure that everything he needed for the exhibit had been delivered to the museum. He certainly didn’t need to go poking around for a mysterious old girlfriend that might not have any significance to his work.

But he had to admit, he was curious. This was the first that he had heard of an artist friend. Most of what he knew about the governor was on the political side. There were mentions of some girlfriends other than Mamang Pilar, mostly society girls from Roxas or Iloilo, but no one had mentioned unchaperoned trips to the island. Had she been one of the unfinished letters Gio had found among the ex-governor’s things?

“Wouldn’t it be interesting if the artist ever drew this governor of yours?” Min Hee mentioned out of the blue, startling Gio out of his thoughts. He had almost forgotten that she was there. But she was looking at him. “You may not think I pay attention, but I’d say a sketch of this guy would be a bit more fascinating than his bottle cap collection.”

She had a point. Gio turned to Genrose. “You wouldn’t happen to know where she lived, do you?”

“No, sorry,” Genrose answered. “But from what I remember, she was also Aklanon. Maybe she lived in Malay or Nabas. You know, Lolo actually kept some of her sketches. She drew him once. Lolo must have had some crush on her because he kept it in one of the family albums. I think she even had a few sketches of the island. Would you like me to look for them for you?”

“Sketches of Boracay?” Gio repeated. Sketches of Boracay way before Liz Taylor and her puka shell necklace or Jens Peters and his travel book placed it on the map. He tried not to sound too eager, but he really thought that might be worth looking into.

“Yes!” Min Hee answered for him, nudging him with an elbow. Her phone buzzed with a soft ring, but she ignored it. “Yes, he’d like to see it. If it’s possible.”

Genrose looked only too happy to help. “I’ll see if I can find them by this afternoon. You can stay in the area and have merienda with us. How are the
adobo
and the
inubarang manok
, by the way?”

In his curiosity, Gio had forgotten to check on Min Hee as a good host should have. Min Hee wasn’t used to Filipino food, much less local dishes. She might have found the
inubarang manok
, which was a stew of hardy native chicken in coconut milk and the crushed core of a banana trunk, hard to swallow. Neither were the eatery’s modest interiors a match for the designer pieces that adorned the top resorts along White Beach, including the one where she was staying. It was sparsely decorated, with wooden benches and wide windows open to views of the beach in the north and the hills in the south.

But to his surprise Min Hee just beamed at Genrose. “Very good!” she said, a wide smile on her lips.

Gio gave her a small smile. Even if she was lying, he appreciated the effort. But when he allowed his eyes to linger longer on her face, he could almost swear that she was being 100% sincere.

* * * *

Exploring the bat caves of Yapak hadn’t been part of his agenda, but once Min Hee heard the idea, she wouldn’t let it go. Gio instantly regretted even mentioning it. Min Hee begged, demanded, and bargained until he offered a compromise. Thankfully, Genrose’s husband generously offered to be their guide and drove them in his tricycle.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Gio asked Min Hee, just to be on the safe side. “They’re bats, in case you didn’t hear me the first time around.”

“I’m not scared,” Min Hee scoffed.

He nodded. “
Aceradon jubatus
.
Pteropus vampyrus
. Two species of flying foxes. They’re some of the largest fruit bats in the world and the golden-crowned flying fox is endemic to the Philippines. They eat fruits and figs and nectar.” He was surprised that Min Hee was letting him continue the lecture, so he pointed to the trees in the distance, heavy with dark shapes. “As long as we don’t disturb them, we should be fine. They rest and eat in the daytime and fly out to the mainland in the evening. If we’re lucky though, we might get to see a daytime flyout.”

“Will I get to see one up close?” Min Hee asked.

“I told you earlier, we really shouldn’t disturb their roosts,” Gio explained patiently. “Besides, the bat caves can be dangerous. It’s a steep and slippery climb down. But Manong Ben is taking us to his friend’s house near the hills. It’s got a good view of fruit bats roosting in their trees during this time of the year. It’ll be safe.”

“You always like safe.”

“Safer for the bats,” he told her.

The tricycle could only take them partly up the road; they had to walk the last hundred meters or so. Soon, they arrived at Manong Ben’s friend’s house. It was low but roomy, built of nipa and wood against the hillside. The sea breeze rushed through the large open windows. Only the friend’s wife was home, but she lent them a pair of binoculars so they could see the bats closer.

“There are so many of them,” Min Hee murmured, training the binoculars on some trees.

“There were more before,” Manong Ben replied. “Now only few.”

Min Hee put the binoculars down. “That’s a shame.”

“It is,” Gio answered. “People keep on building and developing and the bats’ roosts whittle down every year. Sometimes we have our eyes fixed on the beaches that we forget the rest of the things that make up the island.”

Min Hee scrambled over some nearby rocks as gamely as she could, perhaps hoping to get to a higher position. “Careful,” Gio warned her softly. “Rocks here can be slippery with guano.”

“I’m not—” she began, turning to face him abruptly. But the move made her lose her balance, Gio rushed to catch her before she could hit the ground.

“Careful,” he said again, holding her firmly, one hand on her upper arm, the other on her back. Her fingers raked against his back lightly as she clutched his shirt. He felt something twitch in him at their unexpected contact, a lightning storm in the middle of a hot afternoon.

“I heard you the first time,” she told him rather breathlessly.

That was when Gio realized that he was still holding her, that maybe he was still a little too close, a little too forward. He helped her straighten up. “You’re good,” he said, a little too loudly.

“Gio?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re good.”

She smiled. “You said that already.” 

When they came down from the hills, it was already past three in the afternoon. Gio felt keenly aware of Min Hee’s presence. All the way back to the beach, he tried not to be too conscious of the way their knees touched during the bumpy tricycle ride or the way that her arm leaned against his.

He wondered what it would be like to be blind as the proverbial bat, flying in the darkness boldly, content with what his other senses told him instead of the distractions that sight might offer. Maybe he’d just follow the scent of vanilla home.

* * * *

Genrose was waiting for them at her eatery. “I found Lolo’s album!” she told Gio excitedly, holding out an old photo album. The pages were black, quite unlike the magnetic ones that they kept at home. Genrose flipped the pages gently, until she arrived at the folded pieces of paper that she had been looking for.

There were three sketches, all done in pencil. The first one was of Lolo Godo, balancing on an outrigger and holding a long bamboo pole in his hands. The other two were of Boracay. He recognized the second one as Yapak, but with a much wider shoreline than what he saw now. The third one was of White Beach; he could clearly identify the rocky outcropping on Balabag. All the drawings were signed by a C. Melchor, and all of them were dated. He took some pictures with his phone, vowing to check on them the first chance he got.

“Genrose?” he asked tentatively. “Do you mind if I borrow these? I promise you, I will be very careful with them.”

“I don’t know, Gio…” she hesitated.

“I don’t have to take them now,” he assured her. “But I’d like to find out who this woman is. Having these sketches would certainly help. Just think it over and let me know, okay? I can come back for them some other time and I’ll make sure I have the proper container for that.”

Genrose nodded, walking them to the
banca
. “I’ll give you a call.”

“Thank you again for your hospitality,” Gio told her before they boarded.

Min Hee surprised him by shaking both Genrose’s and her husband Ben’s hands. “
Salamat
,” she said, trying out the language. She turned to Gio. “Is that how you say it?”

“Out here we say ‘
saeamat
,’” Gio said, shaping the diphthong slowly so she could follow.

She gave a valiant effort, Gio noted. Some of his cousins from Manila who couldn’t speak the dialect had trouble with the sound. Arianne didn’t even want to try. It took Min Hee a few tries before she just laughed and gave up.  But then she slipped Genrose a folded table napkin.

“It’s not much,” Min Hee said. “Just a sketch.”

But the older woman looked delighted. “You didn’t have to! Thank you! Now I have my own sketch, like Lolo.” Genrose held up the napkin for the others to see.

On it, Min Hee had caught Genrose in a smile, her eyes animated. It wasn’t like the cartoon doodle she had made of him. This was done realistically, with bold strokes that outlined her features and shaded them when she could. Min Hee was able to capture Genrose’s likeness in just a short amount of time, and even if he was no art expert, Gio was very impressed.

“I will treasure this,” Genrose was saying.

Min Hee didn’t say anything in reply, but her eyes were lit up. She waved to Genrose and Ben before boarding the
banca
. He wanted to ask her about the sketch. But when he climbed in after her, she slid her sunglasses over her eyes, hiding her expression from him.

Every time Gio thought he had her figured out, she went and did something that would completely throw him. He liked knowing things. It was what he had studied most his life. He liked the order that it brought to him, peace in the predictability. But he had to admit that there was a strange part of him that was constantly fascinated by how one person—a stranger at that—could make him question so much about the life he thought he knew.