December 17, 2008

the pink and white icing.


I wasn't sure why I also have to be here in the dining room with your mom, your sister, your cousin, your mom's minions, and your trusted housekeeper. Grinning despite the dreary day, you situated yourself on the patriarch's seat, and I visibly relaxed at the information that your dad had somewhere else to be this morning. My self-esteem had suffered enough just having to stay for lunch around people that I barely know and to actually mingle. The mortification was evident in my every movement, but nobody had minded the girl with wire-rimmed glasses. All the women in that room had a comfortable conversation about your grandaunt's birthday party a few days back, and passed the colorful leftover cake around for dessert. I had stayed quiet, offering an awkward smile or a nod at appropriate occasions. There was barely anything on my plate and your sister had noticed. So she urged me to pitch some few slices. And while I yielded to her urging, you just had to call my attention by saying that name. Was it me or everybody had stopped moving for a second? Undaunted by the intrigued looks on the other women's faces, you asked about something that I couldn't just give an answer right away. Must be due to my initial shock or because I had to thank your sister with a faint blush on the face. You really have your ways of embarrassing me.