Taming Romeo (11 page)

I almost melt on the spot. That has got to be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me, hands down.

But what comes next chills me to the bone.

“You, on the other hand, have been living with a guy for years. You ditched me for him. You met him that weekend you went to Boston to visit the campus. And you texted him right before the prom. He told you not to go through with it. Why did you lie to me and tell me it was Harvard you picked over me?”

“Oh, shit, Romeo, how did you know?”

“It doesn’t matter. Tell me, Evie. Why?”

“I don’t know.” I clutch my chest, feeling like my insides are about to spill. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Are you in love with him? Answer me.”

“Why? What does it matter?”

He smashes my face against his and plunders me with his lips. Before I have a chance to give him a bite, he breaks the kiss.

“Because I don’t want to be doing this with someone else’s girl.”

“I’m not his. I’m yours, always have been. I swear.” My knees buckle and I collapse onto the floor, sobbing.

“Strange way of showing it.” He puts the helmet on the floor beside me. “I don’t know what my mother wants to talk about, but I want you to be honest with her. Unfortunately, I didn’t give her all the information about us, because I didn’t know this last bit until this morning.”

“Who told you?” I hug the helmet.

“Your father.”

“What? How could he know?”

Romeo goes to the kitchen and returns with a tissue. “He says Carlos told him the night of the prom, but he’s telling me this morning because our mothers are planning our wedding and he doesn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“I told Carlos?” A sinking feeling smashes me as I recall the hurried explanation. “Why’d he tell Papa?”

“He might have had to explain why he ended up at the dance with you.” Romeo dabs my cheeks with the tissue. “Anyway, don’t be mad at Carlos.”

“I’m not.” I cover my face. I’m sure my makeup is all in pieces by now and I look like a ghoul from the Halloween store. “I’m just sad I lost you. All through the years, no matter what happened, I always had two things going for me. My family and you.”

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry.” He puts his arm around my shoulder. “I’m still here, aren’t I? Why don’t you go to the bathroom and fix your makeup? I’ll call my mom and let her know we’ll be a little late.”

# # #

For the second time this morning, we pull Tita Elena’s Benz onto the freeway and head for Mercy Hospital. I’m as calm as I can be, given the circumstances.

Romeo seems friendly on the surface, but there’s a distance that grows each mile we drive. It’s nothing overt. He doesn’t glare at me or scowl. He’s still pleasant, smiling, making little jokes. But he doesn’t reach over and touch my knee and he doesn’t wink and flirt. In fact, his eyes are hidden behind wraparound sunglasses.

He doesn’t remove his shades until we’re parked inside the hospital parking structure.

“Ready?” I touch his hand.

“Yeah, I’m not sure how we’re supposed to play this. I don’t want to give my mother any more shocks.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t have any more surprises.” I withdraw my hand since he doesn’t respond to my touch.

“Oh, yeah, one more thing.” He rubs his jaw and his Adam’s apple lurches. “Did you take the pill?”

I open my purse and pull out the wadded tissue. “Today’s the last day.”

He takes it and unfolds it. “Is this what you want?”

“It’s not a big deal, right? I might not even be pregnant.” I’m not sure if he’s going to make me take it right now in front of him. “What do you want me to do?”

“I’ll be honest. I like the idea of having a part of me inside of you. Marking you so no other guy will get any ideas. But I don’t want you tied to me because of an accident.” He hands it back to me. “What about you?”

“I want another chance. I want to know that no matter what happens, what mistakes I make, and how much I screw up, that you’ll always care about me. That you won’t turn your back on me. Even if I deserve to be sent packing.”

‘Then I have to be the only man in your heart. I can’t take being hurt again. I’ll just clam up and walk away.”

“I won’t ever hurt you again. I promise.”

He puts a finger on my lips. “Don’t make any commitments until you know what’s in your heart.”

“I do know.” A panicky flutter erupts inside my stomach.

He bites that lip ring of his and shakes his head slowly. “You’re afraid to lose me. It’s not the same.”

“What do I have to do to prove it to you?”

“Nothing. I’ll know.”

“So, what do we do now?” I roll the pill between my fingers.

“I still have a little over two weeks in town.” He quirks his eyebrow and winks. “We can go out, do things, get to know each other.”

“Sounds hopeful.” I lower the window and throw out the pill.

This time his smile includes his eyes. “Let’s get my mom out of this joint.

Tita Elena is pale and stiff. She extends her hand and I ask her blessing, touching the back of her knuckles to my forehead. Her wrist is wrapped with tapes, and there’s a bandage on the back of her hand from the I.V. drip.

She winces when Romeo transfers her from the wheelchair to the passenger seat.

“You look great.” I take her bags and purse and put them on the backseat.

The nurse hands me the information packet and says goodbye.

“Nanay, you comfortable?” Romeo arranges a lap blanket and pulls the seatbelt over her.

“It’s going to take a lot more to bring me down.” She waves him off. “I’m amazed at the technology they have these days. If only your father had… Guess twenty years makes a big difference.”

“I’m glad it went well for you.” I sit in the seat behind Romeo.

“It was pretty amazing, actually.” Elena’s eyes brighten. “They threaded a tiny tube up my arm, guided by an x-ray, right into my coronary artery.”

“We were worried she had a stroke at first,” Romeo says.

“It turns out I hit my head when I fell.” Elena laughs, fluttering her hand over her chest. “I missed all the warning signs for a heart attack.”

“I’m not sure you should live alone,” Romeo says. “Maybe I should move in.”

Elena shakes her head. “We talked about this. You have your career. I’ll hire a nurse.”

“I don’t want to be halfway around the world the next time this happens.”

“You can’t drop everything. I won’t let you.”

I settle back in my seat and pull out my cell phone. Mother and son are in disagreement and I don’t want to be drawn into it.

My text message to Eric is unanswered. I don’t know why I bother updating him. If I were to be honest, the thought that someone who supposedly loves you, who lives with you, who is supposed to build a future with you can suddenly, without explanation, push you away and cut off all communication. That is scary.

But isn’t this what I did to Romeo five years ago? The poor guy was expecting to be married. Instead he got a message to leave him alone. No explanation. No communication. It sure hurts to be on the receiving side, doesn’t it?

I text Eric:
I now realize what I did to Romeo was wrong. I’ve been seeing him again and I want to make it work this time.

I scroll backward through my message history. At first I couldn’t believe why he’d cut me off. He was wooden, expressionless. He didn’t yell, he didn’t do anything mean. There was no emotion. Just the admission that he couldn’t do this anymore, live with me and pretend we had a future. That he was moving in with a friend until I removed my things.

Then I was angry. I broke his things. I showed up at his friend’s place and kicked the door. I thought about slashing his tires, but I didn’t follow through. I tried everything I could to get a reaction from him, but it was like talking to a brick wall.

So I begged and I pleaded. I wrote him long emails promising to correct every criticism he ever made of me. I’d cut my hair shorter, keep my room neater, make his favorite dish more often, rub his feet, even start taking out the trash.

Tears fill my eyes as I recall the dire straits I went to get him back. I wasn’t able to concentrate on my schoolwork. My grades dropped. I limped for two months from mid-March until May before the final blow. I failed anatomy and barely passed my other basic science courses.

I suppose I’m now in the depression state. Everyone at the medical school is very supportive of me, especially my Society Master who successfully finished med school as a single mother. I really have no excuse for failure.

“Isn’t that right, Evie?” Tita Elena looks at me for support of whatever point she was arguing with Romeo about.

“Uhm, yes.” I falter, unsure what else to say.

“See? She agrees with me. I don’t need babysitting. By the way, Evie, have you thought of being a cardiologist or going into surgery?”

I catch Romeo’s eyes in the rear view mirror. He doesn’t look happy with the way we supposedly ganged up on him.

“Yes, Ma’am. I’m interested in interventional radiology and laser surgery. These days we can use guided probes and lasers to perform a lot of procedures that used to mean a major operation.”

“You are going back to school, aren’t you?” Tita flashes me a weak smile.

“Yes, that’s the plan.”

“How long are you staying?”

I notice Romeo staring at me through the mirror again. “Maybe a few more weeks. My Society Master says I should take the time to get over my emotional hurt before going back for remedial work. I have to do some special projects and retake the final exam.”

“What exactly happened? Your mother was vague.”

Oh, boy. If this is part of the talk, why couldn’t she do it without Romeo around?

I promised him I’d be honest, and at this point, there’s nothing to hide. They’ll get it from one or the other member of my family. Might as well be me.

“I broke up with the guy I was living with.”

“That’s too bad. Why did you break up with him?”

There’s no getting around the Filipina auntie. If you grow up calling her Tita, she’s going to get to ask you the most personal questions. Of course, now that we’re stuck in traffic, she has plenty of time to dig in.

“I didn’t break up with him. He told me the relationship was over. Just like that. One day I was picking china patterns and day dreaming over baby names. The next day, bam. Finished.”

“When did this happen?”

“About two months ago. So naturally my course work suffered and I failed anatomy.”

“Oh, my. At least you were brave enough to stay there two months. Did you ever see him again?”

“Yes, it took some time to separate our belongings, and even though he paid for the lease, he let me stay while he stayed with friends.”

“How long were you with him?”

“I dated him five years, and lived with him the last two.”

Tita Elena reaches back and pats my knee. “If he were to come for you, would you go back to him?”

So, this is the crux of the interview. Thankfully the traffic starts moving again. I swallow a lump, unable to clear my scratchy throat.

Romeo turns up a hill leading to Tita’s La Jolla residence. I could run out the clock. But not answering is worse. I can’t leave them with a cliffhanger.

“Would I take him back?” I muse aloud.

Romeo pulls up the inclined driveway and hits the garage door opener. Instead of driving in, he puts the car in park and looks over his shoulder.

“Would you?” Romeo challenges me. “Pretend he’s here asking you for another chance. What would you do?”

I’m zeroing into Romeo’s eyes, seeing my reflection, knowing my answer is identical to his answer to my question for another chance.

“The answer is, I don’t know.”

“Julia’s postponing her wedding,” my mother announces over breakfast.

“Why?” I ask. “I thought she and Steve were inseparable.”

“What are we going to do about all the extra food we ordered?” Choco stabs one of the sausages in her
longsilog
, a plate of sausage, garlic rice, and two eggs over easy.

Papa pours coffee for us. “Tita Elena’s not feeling well enough to attend. Romeo said she’s more tired than she’s letting on.”

“But it’s not her wedding,” I say, although secretly I’m relieved she won’t be subjecting herself to a public appearance and stressing over cake perfection.

“She’s Julia’s godmother, did you forget?” Mama says. “Anyways, I talked your Romeo into booking the banquet facilities for his film crew. They’re going to shoot a couple of scenes.”

Papa high-fives Mama. “See why I married you?”

I glance at Genie who is spreading butter on a piece of toast. She alone does not eat the traditional Filipino breakfast laden with eggs, garlic rice, gravy and meat. Actually, now that I’m vegan, I pick at my scoop of garlic rice.

When Mama said “your Romeo,” was she looking at me or Genie? He’s still taking her to the prom in a week and I’m still grounded as far as Papa is concerned. He doesn’t want anything to interfere with my return to medical school.

“I’m glad Romeo’s crew will hire out the restaurant,” I say, just to have something to say. “We shut down the entire operation on a Saturday for the wedding, but now, we can have regular lunch hours and the dinner party.”

“Will all his co-stars be joining him?” Choco asks, her brow furrowed.

“Everyone.” Mama beams proudly. “They’re adding the fight with the plate of
lechón
to the movie and auditioning extras for the scene.”

“Do I get to play myself?” Genie raises her hand as if this were a pop quiz.

“That’s the best part,” Mama says. “We all get to play ourselves, and I heard they changed the script. The math nerd is going to dump Romeo.”

“I thought that was already in the plot.” Choco shoves another sausage in her mouth.

I really need to speak to her about eating more sensibly. At five-foot-even, her one-twenty pounds is at the upper limit. I’m four inches taller and weigh five pounds less.

They jibber on about the soap opera and Genie’s prom dress. I tune them out, pouring myself another cup of coffee.

“Can Evie have prom night off?” Genie’s scratchy voice alerts me to the developing conversation.