Three Years' Worth of Lasagna

I hate waiting. I'm back in the Philippines after 8 months in the US and the first thing I'm forced to do is wait for my ride to pick me up from the airport.

Thirty minutes later, my mom, uncle Guy and their driver arrived in uncle's van to pick me up. As soon as I got in, I immediately started complaing about the heat, the traffic, the noise, and everything. I was irritable. I was excited to return to the Philippines, but it annoyed me because I was just starting to gain friends in Chicago. Returning to the Philippines meant going back to the job I left, returning to the annoyances I used to have, and reliving the memories that I've wanted to forget.

It was a mixed emotion. I didn't want to stay there in the US, but I knew that aside from my family, no one else really waited for me here.

We went straight to my grandparents' place first. It became a standard procedure for us to give away the "pasalubong" and the "padala" to our relatives first. '"Great," I told myself. "Its time to meet the relatives that only remember us whenever someone in my family comes home from overseas".

I helped my mom distribute the contents of the big balikbayan boxes that I had to drag through customs. I didnt talk and I didn't ate because I didn't really want to. My mom noticed this and asked if I was ok, I just said I was tired. That seemed to work because a few minutes later, my mom asked her brother to distribute the rest of the pasalubong to the relatives.

Ten minutes later we were heading home. Another 15 minutes later, we were stuck in traffic. I was ecstatic with sarcastic glee. I want to go home. I want to see my room and lock myself inside.

As we turned the last corner to our house, I could barely hold myself back. I was getting impatient. I wanted to take the wheel from the driver and hit the gas.

"Ma, Antok na ko," I told my mom as we parked at our garage. She OK'ed and she instructed the driver to carry my bags inside the house.

I entered the house, climbed the stairs and walked directly to my room. I took off my shoes and dropped myself on my familiar bed like a falling timber. The clean covers felt soft and nice on my skin. Thats the first good thing I felt since coming back. I planned to change my clothes but sleep got the better of me.

=============

It was already dark outside when I woke up. The air was cold but dry. I looked at my alarm clock and the display read 10:01pm.

I stepped out of my room and looked at the corridor. It seemed everyone is sleeping already. It felt like I had the house all to myself so I got changed and went downstairs to watch some TV.

I sat on the right end of the sofa pulled one of the four cushions from underneath the coffee table and raised my feet. I used to do this a lot when I'm watching tv. I want to be as comfortable as possible. Even after 8 months, it seems old habits die hard.

I got frustrated when I browsed the channels. "Ugh... I need a channel guide," I thought. The cable company changed the channel lineup again.

I was about to close the TV when I heard someone coming from the behind the living room, so I poked my head around the corner to see who it is.

'Hi Emma. Goodevening," I greeted.

"Aaaaaaaaaaldrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiin!" She excitingly called my name. She quickly dragged her slippers and sat right beside me. She folded and rested her right leg on the couch and tucked it underneath her left knee to an almost indain seat position so she can face me. Judging by her damp hair and the familiar scent of her bath soap, I can tell she just finished her evening bath.

"Kumusta ka na?!" she said with a grin. I can tell by the look on her eyes that she's excited. We haven't met since I arrived, so this was the first chance we've had to talk.

"Eto... I just woke up," I answered.

"Ay kumain ka na?" she queried. "We have lasagna sa ref, wait here"

She quickly got up and walked towards the kitchen. I couldnt help but notice that she's a bit taller now. Instead of loose t shirts and baggy shorts, it seems she wears a tight sando and long pajamas when going to bed. Her clothes hugged her body and revealed her figure. Her hair is a lot shorter than how she used to wear it, and I think her skin has more of a rosey tint, and not as pale as it used to be.

I heard the click of the light switch as she disappeared into the kitchen, and I returned to looking for HBO. I heard a soft ding and minutes later, she returned with a tray on her hands which she cafrefully placed on the coffee table. On the tray was a pitcher of iced tea, an empty glass, a small plate with 2 slices of garlic bread, and a delicious looking lasagna on a ceramic heating dish. She went back to the kitchen then returned with some table napkins and a fork.

"Yan, kumain ka na," she said as she sat down beside me.

"Thank you," I said as she handed me a plate. "Ikaw? bat ayaw mo kumain"

"No thanks. I ate already," she refused.

I caught the smell of the warm lasagna, and I remembered that the last meal I had was on the plane. I didn't like eating alone, but hunger got the best of me. As I forked a small potion into my mouth and tasted the pasta, I can see Emma's mouth slowly open and close in anticipation of the first bite.

"I had to microwave it kasi lumamig na. I thought you were going to wake up in time for dinner," she explained. "So... how is it?"

"Its good," I said. "Sino Nagluto?"

She closed her eyes, raised her eyebrows, and smiled proudly. "Sino pa kaya?"

"Di nga, sino?" I asked, pretending that I don't believe her.

"Ako nga"

"Ows, Ikaw gumawa nito?", I asked with a raised eyebrow in an effort to sound skeptic.

"Ay nako... ako nga eh"

"You sure?", I said as I continued to annoy Emma. "This tastes like its store-bought or something."

"Ang kulit mo rin eh"

"Malay ko ba? Di ko naman nakitang ginawa mo to. Bat ako maniniwala-"

"Tama na, " Emma interrupted with a laugh. "Ang corny mo na," she said with a grin and a slight pinch on my left arm.

"Well... Its good," I continued and Emma started to smile. That smile quicky disappeared when I said that its a little TOO good.

She inhaled and took a quick exhale. "Kelan ka babalik ng US?" she asked.

I laughed at her question and grinned to tell her that I wasn't even being serious "Joke lang Emma!".

"Hay nako asar ka pa rin," she complained. "Bumalik ka na nga ron," she said. Her voice sounded genuinely annoyed. "It seems like I haven't lost my touch," I thought to myself.

"Di na nga kita pagluluto," she threatened. "Sabi pa naman ni tita you like pasta thats why I made it for you tapos di mo mang lang ma-appreciate," frowned Emma.

"Wow," I said. I was genuinely surprised that (not only did she cook great, but) she took the time out to ask my mom about what kind of food she should make. Also its weird to hear her say it, but Emma's started calling my mom "Tita" sometime during the last three years. It was an arragement between Emma and my mom I think. Mama didn't like Emma calling her "Ate," similar to how she told Ate Lydia not to call her "Madam".

"Hey I do appreciate this," I told her, as I took another bite. "I really do. Peksman," I swore with a smile.

"Talaga?" she asked. I noticed that her smile was back on.

I apologized for annoying her and to convince her, I had a second helping. I didnt mind proving that to her, because I honestly think that her cooking was great, and I was hungry.

I thought to myself that other than our moms, Emma was the only other person who cooked for me. Penelope made me taste her cooking once or twice, but it she was cooking to impress her friends, but not to impress me alone. Pene didn't even finish the cooking. She would just prepare the ingredients and let their house help finish the rest. When its time to eat, she would say proudly that 'I cooked that'. Emma's cooking was different. It felt special, like when my mom took time out from her very busy schedule to make sure I have a good meal.

(I apologize to all women who do not wish to be compared to their special someone's mothers, but if a guy tells you that your cooking is like their mom's cooking, its actually a good compliment... unless ofcourse your special someone suffered a form of food poisoning or malnutrition during their childhood years)

"So is this what they've been teaching you in Singapore?" I asked while taking another bite. I recalled the last time I saw her- it was more that 3 years ago. Now, I can't help but notice the changes she's been through. It seemed Singapore was a good phase for her. She began talking about the HRM training took with ate Lydia, her "english" lessons her Singaporean boss made her take, and her Pinay tutor. It seems that she also had a job as a personal assistant to a YMCA hotshot who had a very annoying grandmother.

While she was telling her story, Emma took my fork a couple of times to have some of the lasagna she baked, and take a sip from the iced tea she prepared. Some say its unsanitary, but we've been doing it for years. I recall one time my mom saw me and Emma sharing food from a single plate. She wanted to gross us out both out by telling us that we are practically kissing each other, but we never did unlearn that.

"Eh ikaw?" Emma asked. "Kumusta na kayo?"

Uh oh... I knew it. I knew that this topic would eventually come up. "Kami nino?" I asked in a futile effort to stall.

"You know who"

"Sino nga?"

"Kunwari pa to. Edi yung girlfriend mo". Darn. I should've just followed her suggestion and went back to Chicago.

I can't stall anymore. I sighed. I had to tell her. Emma has been hoping to meet Penelope. I was only able to talk about Pene with Emma through YM, so its understandable that Emma is excited. We've always talked to each other's special someones, and we never asked too much, nor kept secrets that need telling. We even promised each other that we must assess each other's crushes and love interests just to make sure that they are up to standard. Emma has high expectations, thats why it was very difficult to tell her about my break-up with Pene.

I was hesitant to tell her not because I'm ashamed of what happened between me and my ex, but because I did'nt know she would react. I took a deep breath and spoke.

"We didn't work out," I finally said, and immediately Emma's barrage of questions expectably came.

I began to tell Emma the details. I didn't mind going through the birth to the eventual demise of my relationship with Pene. I'm over it, but I was chosing my words correctly because I didn't want Emma to feel left out. I want Emma to know everything, but my relationship with Pene was lifechanging, both for good and bad. At first I dint know what to tell Emma, so I had to rely on her questions on what to share, but as the conversation progressed, I felt at ease telling her everything I want to tell her. I was able to put into words the frustration, anger and sadness and the feelings of betrayal and letting go that I was not able to talk with anyone before. We may have been apart for so long, but its still "The Emma" I was talking to after all. I've been with her my entire life, and she's not a person that I just happened to have met along the way. Everything came out very easy. Soon, I was ending my story by narrating the last phone conversation I had with Pene at my despedida party.

"Wala ka pala eh," she laughed. "Dapat yata beer iniinom natin, not iced tea. Gusto mo ng tissue?" Her reaction made me laugh because I never expected it. (I didn't cry lol. She just said that to tease me).

"Naubos mo na nga eh," I pointed to the empty pitcher of Iced tea. "Wait lang, I'll get more"

"Ako na," Emma said. She started to stand, but I refused and told her she shouldn't bother getting up.

"You got the last one," I said. "Its my turn".

"Ikaw bahala," she smiled.

I got up, picked up the empty pitcher and went to the kitchen. A good five minutes later, I returned to the living room.

"Asan na?" Emma asked, curious why I returned empty handed.

"Hehe... where do we keep the Nestea?" I asked with an embarassed laugh. It was the first time I've seen the kitchen since I left. I could barely recognize it.

Emma laughed. "Nasa green na plastic container sa shelf," she said as she was sticking the fork on what remained of the lasagna.

"Yeah I knew that, I was just making sure that it was Nestea," I said. Emma knew I was just making excuses and laughed at me. "Bulag ka talaga," she added as I returned to the kitchen. There, I nuked the remaining lasagna, prepared some iced tea and went back to the living room.

"Ayan. Inubusan mo ko eh," I told Emma as I put down the pitcher and the amber crystal pan containing the lasagna on the coffee table. I also handed her another fork so we can eat straight from the pan. "Lakas mo sa pulutan eh," I grinned.

We started trading questions and stories, and exchanging laughter and comforting words. We had a lot of catching up to do thats why we were up all night, talking and eating (with the ocassional pissbreaks lol).

I didnt realize what time it is until my watch beeped. It was already 6 o'clock and we didnt even realize we've been talking for 8 hours. I apologized for keeping her up all night and suggested that we clean up, but she said she didn't mind. "Ok lang no. Minsan ka na nga lang mamimiss, ayaw mo pa. If I know, miss mo rin ako," she said with a laugh.

Hearing her say that gave me an epiphany of sorts. I may have spent only 8 months in the US, but it has actually been three years since we last saw each other. It dawned on me just how long that time has been, and three years is too long, even for lifelong friends.

I picked up the pitcher and the glass, wiped the coffee table with tissue, then followed Emma to the kitchen. "Thanks for talking to me Emma," I said. "I missed you too"

"Wushuuu... drama mo," she laughed, but I didnt complain. I sat at the counter and thought that our parents and Uncle Guy should be waking up in a few minutes. We're all together in our house in a quiet village in Makati, and for my family, its a rare ocession. (I've forgotten the things that annoyed me when I just got back.)

I saw the familiar sunshine pierce through our kitchen window and gently hit Emma as she was washing the dishes we just used.

Its nice to be back home.