Taming Romeo Read Free

lumpia , and butterflying bangus onto skewers.
    “What happened to you?” Choco shakes me. “Did you get caught in a food fight?”
    “Hey, we need another bucket,” my younger sister, Genie, yells. “What happened to Evie?”
    “Yeah, Evie, where were you?” Kuya Carlos wipes his hands on his apron and grabs a cleaver. “Did the Sunshine Ladies pile on you? Let me have at them.”
    He pantomimes chopping motions and grins. “If you ever need a hero, I’m all that you need.”
    I grab a kitchen towel and wipe my face. “I better help Genie with the cleanup and get changed for the dinner rush.”
    “Too bad I have to cook, cuz you’re one nOmnOmNom chick.” He winks and blows me a kiss.
    Smiling, I flip him the bird, which is our way of teasing each other. Carlos has had a crush on me since the day he met me. His mother, Tita Gloria, was Mama’s schoolmate, ring-leader of the barkada she hung with that’s tighter than family. But then, Romeo’s mother, Tita Elena, was Mama’s first friend in San Diego, the one who helped her find her first apartment, apply for her first job, fill out immigration paperwork and took her disco dancing. She also favored Mama with her discarded boyfriend, my father, and for that service, she was given the honor of being Mama’s maid-of-honor to Tita Gloria’s great displeasure, a rift that was only healed when Mama asked her to be my godmother. Years later, after Carlos graduated from culinary school in Manila, guess who gave him his first job?
    I grab an extra mop and bucket from the closet and plod toward the kare-kare room to get it ready for the nighttime activities. Some evenings we have live bands whereas other evenings are open-mic karaoke. I walk by Papa lighting the torches in the patio dining area.
    “You took a long break, Anak .” He rubs his mustache, a sure sign of disapproval. “Choco says you were sneaking a smoke.”
    “Choco’s a busy body. I was taking out the recyclables.”
    He grunts and flicks the stick lighter several times before shaking his head and walking away from me. I know he’s disappointed at me for taking a break from medical school. He’s ashamed because my leave of absence was triggered by an emotional breakdown. Being dumped by the man you thought you were marrying could have that effect. On weaker specimens, that is.
    Shock socks my stomach when I open the door to the kare-kare room. Broken plates are scattered on the parquet floor and the tablecloths are smeared with noodles, sauce, and spilled drinks.
    Genie looks up from scrubbing a stain on the wall. “Romeo’s paying for all this. He’s not a bad guy.”
    Why is she defending him? I look at her from the side of my eye. That secretive smile on her face means she’s keeping something from me.
    “How much is he paying?” I grab a broom and sweep the plate fragments into the dustbin.
    “He’ll bring a cake from Tita Elena’s bakery. What happened to you?” She wrinkles her nose. “You stink. Did Carlos throw you in the dumpster again?”
    “No, he didn’t.” I sniff myself and wipe the grease from my pants. Apparently Genie never gets sick of rubbing that embarrassing incident in my face. I’d lost a bet concerning not mentioning Romeo’s name for twenty-four hours. I choked at precisely twenty-three hours and forty-nine minutes, hence baptismal by garbage.
    “I’m glad you’re messed up,” she says. “You can take over the mopping and scrubbing. I have to fold napkins and dress in my hostess outfit.”
    I mouth her last sentence and bob my head at her departing back. Born with fair skin and curly brown hair, she’s the one all the relatives compliment as the most beautiful of the Sánchez sisters. While Choco and I stay in the background in our nondescript black uniforms, Genie gets to wear a colorful baro’t saya , a form fitting dress consisting of an intricately decorated collarless blouse with bell shaped sleeves.
    If I sound like I’m jealous, I’m not.