“Oh, must I? How are you suddenly so proper?” She crossed her arms. “I am a doctor, by the way, in obstetrics and gynecology. Sex is biological.”
“But it’s also private, so if you would please, I don’t want half this boat in this majority-Catholic country to burn us at the stake because you and I frolicked last night.”
“Frolicked?”
“What?” He was laughing now.
Diana could have done another round of banter and teasing, but his message seeped through. This man cared about her, and he was asking her to consider his feelings. Whatever this was between them was beside the point. He wanted respect, so she would make sure he received it. “I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye. I just didn’t want an awkward moment with Colette or anyone else, like we had with my mom. And I knew we were seeing each other this morning. I guess I didn’t think twice about it.”
He took her hand in his, brought it to his lips to kiss it. “I’m sorry, too. I just don’t like to be surprised, not when it’s about the coming and goings of people.”
“Point taken.” She nodded. “And I’m the same, in many respects.”
“I know. You’ve gone over your travel itinerary several times in the few days I’ve known you, remember? Although, it surely wasn’t that way last night. You were quite … open to the possibilities.”
Heat blazed through her at the change of subject. Jumping into the water might be a good thing to cool her suddenly naughty thoughts. “Shhh.”
“What happened to ‘sex is biological’?”
“Shut up.” She looked over her right shoulder. Surely everyone could see how she had turned McIntosh-apple red.
“What would our family say,” she joked, though when she said it, she bit her lip.
He frowned, sensing her concern. “And here we are again, to the awkward conversation of family …”
The scattered voices of tourists flittered around them. From the left, someone yelled, “Ticket ko!” and a singular rectangular ticket fluttered between them in a curlicue trajectory over the hull of the boat.
“I’ll get it!” Diana jumped to her feet just as the ticket fell within arm’s reach, but as she got there, it took flight, going the opposite direction. She followed it and lunged at the ticket in the air, promptly collided into Joshua’s chest, smashing it between them.
“Oh, thank God! I needed that for my album.” The woman plucked the ticket between them. “But napaka cute naman kayo.” She winked, waving the ticket flirtatiously.
Joshua laughed, while Diana sorted out the syllables. Napaka, meaning “so much.” Cute?
Cute? Them?
She jumped back at the realization that his arms were locked around her waist, and that the woman thought that they were a couple. Because sex was one thing, but couplehood? Them? He was stubborn. She, possibly more so. They were oil and water—it was evident even in the few days of them knowing each other. And while they threw off sparks in the sheets, reality put them on opposite sides of the world, and in the same family tree.
Which put their relationship, or whatever this was between them, in trouble.
* * *
“It’s unforgivable our history hasn’t been told enough.”
Diana turned her head to the dissenter during the Corregidor Island tour. She had been distracted most of the tour despite her best effort to keep up with the history of World War II in the Pacific. Her mind jostled between Joshua, who listened with rapt attention, and her mother, who had yet to respond to her text for an update. But this was the second time this visitor had spoken up.
“Filipinos thought the Holy Grail was to leave their own country, only to work as migrant farmworkers being paid pennies on the dollar, to fight in the war, and then to be discriminated against, ostracized, and ignored in the history books.” The man, dressed in a T-shirt and basketball shorts, pointed to an elderly gentleman in a wheelchair, graying and frail. Whiskers white, hands clasped within themselves, he was unperturbed by the man speaking for him. “My lolo was an Alamo Scout, but it took decades for him to receive recognition.”
As the tour moved on, Diana hung back until there was some distance between her and Joshua and the group.
“What’s an Alamo Scout?” Diana asked.
“Special Forces.” Joshua stuck his hands in his pockets. “US Special Forces, though it wasn’t just manned by White American soldiers. Filipinos, Native Americans, and Latinos staffed them, too. But their stories are rarely told. Many times, they weren’t awarded the accolades they deserved.” He glanced at her. “When I was in college, I didn’t hear of how Filipinos took an active position during the migrant farmworker riots. Did you know?”
Diana looked down, ashamed. “No, I didn’t, not until I read Antonio’s letters.”
“Not enough of our history is out there to be taught and celebrated. And it’s so important to know it. It’s our identity, our pride in being both Filipino and American. When I lived in the US, it felt so … so confusing, to be me, to defend my heritage, though not really know enough about it. I’m a US citizen because of Lolo Tony, but I returned here to Manila to grapple with what I’m made out of, and who I want to be. Do you know what I mean?”
“I … I think I do.” Diana croaked out an answer. “I think that’s why I’m here, too. To learn.” Because now that she thought of it, she really didn’t know a damn thing. She’d lived her life in the status quo: a good job, a steady relationship with Carlo, a simple if sparse family tree. These things comprised her identity.
What was she now? Now that she risked being unemployed, was single, and suddenly part of a family on the opposite of the world? What had she ignored altogether?
“Lolo Tony was proud to be both Filipino and American, though at times he felt like he was living a contradiction—he told me that, once. I understood what he meant by it, because sometimes one must choose. Where to live, what language to speak, who’s history to believe.”
Diana took half steps to hang back from the tour group as it moved. He did the same.
“And Antonio chose the Philippines,” Diana said. “The question is, why?”
Why did he choose Flora over Leora?
Why did he choose Manila over California?
“I don’t know why he did it. But I chose the Philippines because of him.”
“Is this why you’re so protective of his stuff, even with the rest of the family?”
“I’m protective of his stuff because I loved the man. He was getting old, and he knew Colette would need my help whenever it was time for him to retire. Colette is a talented chef, but she didn’t want to manage the hotel. She and Philip always talked about having a family. But, yes, I take personal responsibility for his things because that is our specific family history. When you first arrived, I thought that you were here for his wealth, even though now I realize that it’s Lolo and Lola who have, or had, a lot of explaining to do.” For a moment, he looked stricken. “I hope I didn’t offend you.”
“Surprisingly, I took no offense at that. It’s fair.” Diana stopped, and he turned back to look at her. “I understand protectiveness because I feel the same way toward my mother. She’s all I have in the world. We don’t always see eye to eye, but she has been through a lot. No offense to your family—even though I’m related to them, and you’ve been so gracious—but my mother is trusting, emotional, and I’m scared that all of this is just another fairy tale to her.”