Manila Marriage App Read Free Page A

the super-bright glare of the sun. This was the tropics all right. “And you would be…?”
    Those extra-white teeth appeared, again, as he pumped my hand vigorously. “Danilo. Danilo Reyes. I’m Dr. Flynn’s teaching assistant. He sends his apologies. He had something important to attend to and says he will make time to see you when we return to the seminary.”
    He would, would he? How delightful.
    I must have looked droopy because Danilo scooped up all of bags with a flourish—he was stronger than he appeared—and slanted his head toward the parking lot. Rivulets of perspiration trickled down my back, the air so heavy it was hard to pump oxygen in and out of my lungs. What had possessed me to come to The Philippines during their hottest month of the year? I fished my sunglasses out of my purse—the pair Brianna said made me as glamorous as Marilyn Monroe—and trudged along behind.
    Belted in the passenger seat of Dr. Flynn’s gold mini-SUV, air conditioning blasting, I settled back.
    Danilo had been surveying my disheveled state with apprehension, but after a bit, he seemed satisfied he’d be able to deliver me alive and passably fit.
    The vehicle took off like a clay pigeon shot out of a launcher. The word aggressive didn’t begin to describe Danilo’s attitude behind the wheel. We were driving on a divided three-lane highway, and the traffic was crazy. I’d never seen anything to match it. Being from the DC area, I was familiar with congestion extraordinaire, but this was a completely different sort of chaos.
    Five vehicles were squeezed across those three lanes, all moving fast and furious. We were in the middle of a melee and to either side of us sped a car, a truck, and a strange form of compact bus. The extra-scary part was each vehicle was moving a scant foot (or less) away from the others. I thanked God that Danilo was driving. I shut my eyes and hung on.
    “Miss? Miss? You OK?” Danilo reached over and patted my hand. “Miss?”
    I dared a quick peek and was closing my eyes again when Danilo snorted. Was he laughing at me? OK, I suppose I could give him that. It must have been funny seeing the frightened American lady cringing in fear over…traffic. I lifted my chin, pulled my seatbelt taut, and tried to concentrate on the scenery whizzing by.
    We were on the outskirts of the big city, and next to the road stood numerous stores, businesses, and run-down buildings. The writing on most of the signs was in both English and another language I didn’t recognize. We passed over a dry riverbed with shacks and dilapidated sheds of all shapes and sizes crowded close together. I gestured toward the distressing sight.
    Danilo’s lips thinned. How sweet that his emotions were such an open book. Most men were so hard to read. “Much of my country is poor. People do whatever work they can to feed their families. In the stormy season, the rains come and the river returns to wash away all those makeshift homes. That is the bad time.”
    A group of children played in the rubbish by the overcrowded highway. One of the boys had on a frayed Washington Redskins t-shirt two sizes too big for him. The shirt made me grin. The ‘Skins were my team. The kid next to him wore a Breathe-if-You-Hate-Duke shirt. I chuckled at that one. Even though I’d gone to Cornell, I had a soft spot for the Maryland Terps, and we were avid Duke haters. How curious that a missionary box, most likely from the DC area, had made its way here.
    I gave them a wave, and the boys waved back excitedly. The Duke hater waved one last time as the kids disappeared over the embankment followed by a skinny yellow dog.
    I scrutinized my chauffer. He was dressed in clean, pressed jeans, an orange polo shirt, and Adidas shoes. He would have fit in at any college in the US.
    We cruised on in silence until the main seminary came into view. Danilo sailed passed the main gate and kept on driving until we came to a narrow dirt road on our right. He turned