He shrugged, then lifted a weight and rested it on his thighs. A dismissal.
She walked away, waved a hand in his direction. If he wanted to play this game, then she would be all in for it.
* * *
By noon, jet lag had hit Diana hard, and when they arrived at the Cruz family home, her headache was excruciating. It was not helped by the anxiety thrumming through her; today would be the day of truth. They would find out the DNA results; they would meet Flora, and hell, even the entire family in a few moments. With her mother by her side, it took all of Diana’s concentration to follow the back of Joshua’s striped short-sleeve oxford shirt as she stepped carefully over the paved walkway.
The home appeared from the shroud of trees, halting Diana in her tracks. Its beauty overshadowed the grandeur of Las Cruces Hotel.
Easily a multimillion-dollar home in the DC area, the family home was nestled in a thicket of trees in the Forbes neighborhood of Makati. It took about an hour’s drive to get them out of Manila this morning, a stop-and-go that turned into a smooth flow, where pedestrian-laden traffic had given way to tree-lined streets and then a winding driveway and gate.
“Wow, what more?” her mother said as she sucked in a breath, mouth agape at the open architecture. She’d dressed in a neutral safari-green sheath dress today, but her jewelry stood out: a white round plastic-bead necklace and a tower of bracelets that jingled when she walked.
“No kidding, right?” Diana couldn’t keep the snark out of her voice. The home was a beauty, there wasn’t a doubt. It mimicked the bahay na bato, or stone-fashioned home, reflecting both Spanish and Chinese influences. Multiple pitched rooflines, tall and slim windows with panes shimmering, so it looked like capiz shells. The foundation was made of stone, but everything above was a regal wood. It was clear that despite its matriarch being a hundred years old, this home had been cared for meticulously.
There was so much … grandeur. The Cruz family had flourished like the citrus of the calamansi trees they’d driven past, burgeoning with fruit, when all the while, her own family, on a weak three legs, had its own struggles. Growing up, Diana had wished for this kind of life, where she wouldn’t need to stop herself from asking for something extra.
This estate was like the VIP rooms: excessive.
It made her despise Flora Cruz more.
An instinct rose inside her like a wave, to turn around and run the opposite direction, to take her mother back to the United States, where they belonged, despite the lack of blood relatives. This whole thing had been a mistake. They had friends, good ones. They had a community waiting for them. Not these people who they wouldn’t have known about had it not been for those letters Leora had kept secret.
“Here’s the plan.” Diana decided now, before they went through the double doors. She was going to recover this trip. Take away the sadness she’d seen in her mother. Get in, get out, and get Margo to a resort, where she deserved to be pampered. Joshua had already climbed the wooden steps, and the sound of people laughing sprinkled lightly in the air—it was now or never. “We just need to get the truth, and then we’re leaving. We don’t have to stay.”
“I know.” Her mother’s voice was resolute.
“Joshua?” Diana called out now, and Joshua turned. The faster they got this meeting done with, the better.
His face registered an acknowledgment. “I texted Colette. She’ll meet us in front.”
Diana looked around for her cousin. “I don’t see her.”
“I mean, inside front.”
An older man wearing blue jeans and a T-shirt opened the double doors. Diana followed Joshua inside to an open-air covered foyer, the floor made of gleaming brownish red rock. A fountain bubbled in the middle, imposing, a natural stopping point for strangers, but beyond it was a walkway to a second set of doors, with a small wooden crucifix nailed above the doorway.
The pitter-patter of footsteps echoed after the door opened, and Colette fluttered out, wearing jeans, a white tank taut across her belly, and a flowing white kimono-style silk jacket. Diana relaxed at her cousin’s open-armed welcome. She hadn’t realized how much she’d needed a hug, and she felt her body soften from its stiff posture. “Welcome, welcome. Okay, so don’t freak out. We have a lot of people inside. A lot more than we expected.” Her shiny lips wiggled a half-hearted smile.
“Oh?” Diana glanced at her mother.
“Yes, um. Sometimes my family doesn’t like to RSVP. They just show up.” She wiggled her fingers with a flourish. “And, well, that’s what a hundredth birthday does. It brings everyone around.”
“It’s because they all want to be in her good graces, a.k.a. money,” Joshua muttered on the side.
“Naku, stop.” Colette rolled her eyes. “It’s just the way of it. But they’ve all started drinking, so the mood is quite good. I’ll introduce you and that’s that. It’s probably better they’re all here, so there’s no tsismis.” She glanced at Diana. “Gossip. Better they all hear and see for themselves; that will lessen all the gossip later.”
“How about the meeting with Flora?” Diana asked. “That will be solo, and soon, correct?”
“Yes, of course. We’ll see her now.” Colette nodded, pulling the phone out of her back pocket. “Ah, Johnny just texted.”
She paused, then gasped. “It’s the results of the test.”
Diana held her breath and watched Colette’s face switch from fright to joy. Her eyes widened and she giggled.
“Well?” Joshua said.
“Okay, here it goes. ‘As requested, the following are the results for the relationship between Colette Cruz Macaraeg, Margaret Gallagher-Cary, and Diana Gallagher-Cary.’ There’s a whole crapload of numbers I don’t understand. Yada yada yada. Diyós! Oh, here! ‘In conclusion, it can be positively concluded that Margaret Gallagher-Cary is the aunt of Colette Cruz Macaraeg, and Diana Gallagher-Cary and Colette Cruz Macaraeg are first cousins.”
“Holy shit,” Margo said, and reached out to the fountain’s sides.
“It’s for real,” Diana whispered. She had assumed the DNA results would show a connection; she’d even said it aloud to Colette. But now … now she was unsteady on her feet. These tests were reliable. Irrefutable.
It changed everything, again. Because now, knowing, for sure, that she was a blood relation to Colette and to some in that hundredth birthday party, she realized that she had every right to be there, too.
What would Leora do?
Would she stay, risk being shunned by the rest of the family as Joshua had treated them? Would she insist that her mother endure potential rejection from her newfound family members? Or would she leave, tonight, and tuck away the knowledge that this family didn’t deserve either her or her mother.
Diana looked at her mother, who was a product of risk. Leora had loved someone she wasn’t supposed to love. She raised a child all alone. Fear of rejection wasn’t in her granny’s vocabulary.
Here we go.
“Great. Just great.” Joshua ran his hand through his hair, and it pulled the last tether of Diana’s impatience. She would not tiptoe around him.
“I think I’ve about had it with you and your underhanded comments. I’ve forced myself to be patient, since we’re stuck with you.”