Taryan: Raise the Empire - First Public Preview

Hello, everyone! I am currently working on a new story concept which has elements of both high-fantasy and science-fiction called Taryan: Raise the Empire.

Here's a preview of what's to come; constructive criticism appreciated, as always...

Beginnings

His first memory of the whole thing, the most potent recollection of all, was stumbling onto his mother’s laboratory when he was ten.

He and his older brother Schendahl were kicking a ball around as they ran through one of the many hallways of their father’s palace, playing a game of keep-away with their little brother Grendlin. Their older sister Audene came tearing after them.

“Wait till I get my hands on all of you!” she yelled at them from the entrance of the hallway. “If Mother finds out you’re playing indoors…”

“Aw, but it’s raining outside!” Schendahl shouted back in reply.

Artavian snickered when he heard his sister’s almost inarticulate roar of rage. Aei [older sister] Audene could be such a pill sometimes! She was no fun at all; she was even worse now because she would be starting at the Amadera in the Souraingite capital of Kanna come fall.

“I’ll be glad when Aei leaves,” he declared to his brothers.

“Who wouldn’t be?” Schendhal snorted derisively.

“Where’s she going?” Grendlin piped up.

“School,” Artavian replied, kicking the ball just out of the younger boy’s reach

“And her school’s going to be really far away,” Schendahl added. He crowed happily when Artavian kicked the ball over to him. “Here goes…!”

He kicked the ball hard, causing it to bounce from wall to wall. Artavian and Grendlin chased after it before it rolled down the flight of stairs at the end of the hall. To their dismay, the ball tumbled down the steps.

“I’ll get it!” Artavian went scrambling down the steps.

“Artie!” Schendahl called after him, his voice agitated. “Wait! Don’t…”

When he reached the floor below, Artavian suddenly felt a deep sense of foreboding grip his heart. For a moment, he could not seem to move. The corridor was pretty much the same as the one above it, but he remembered too late that his parents had forbidden them to enter this part of the palace.

The corridor beyond was lined with doors on both sides, just as the one upstairs. However, the doors on the ground floor of the palace were wooden ones with brass latches that shone like gold because they were so well-polished. The ones here in the basement seemed to be all made of solid steel. At the same time, the hallways of the upper regions of the palace were well-lit and exuded warmth and a pleasant welcome to all who walked in them. This corridor was rather dimly lit and there was a most unusual chill emanating from the walls.

Artavian shivered nervously as he made his way to where the ball rolled. For all his nervousness, however, he was more curious than frightened. He wondered why his parents did not want them to come into this part of the palace. Apart from the intimidating doors and the darker lighting, there did not seem to be any difference between this corridor and anywhere else.

The ball had rolled into the middle of the corridor, just outside a door that was slightly ajar. When Artavian came to retrieve the toy, he overheard voices coming out of the open room. He hesitated for a moment; then his curiosity got the better of him.

“Are you sure that was what the High Oracle said?” a man’s voice demanded. Artavian drew back a little, eyes widening worriedly. That was his father’s voice!

“Yes, your Grace,” another man’s voice replied. Artavian could not identify this one, but he presumed it was the emissary from Klos who arrived earlier that day. He heard the rustle of paper; perhaps he was passing a package over to the Grand Duke. “The High Priest sent a copy of the recording to Loch Nendath. His Grace ordered copies made and sent to you and the other Oligarchs.”

“Here,” a woman’s voice chimed in; Artavian knew it was his mother. “Let’s play that back.”

He could hear clicking sounds as something was slid into a slot. The boy felt the hair on the backs of his neck and arms rising when he heard another woman’s voice speak. It was a horrible voice: aged, cracking, sounding almost as if the speaker lay in her grave. It chanted a series of verses over and over again:

Two years before nine millennia:

Sourainge will be ruled:

Not by a son, but a daughter,

Neither mage nor warrior

But both in one body.

Two years before nine millennia:

Where there are eight

There will be one,

One land united –

United against the darkness.

A prince among princes

Will rise to the fore,

A princess of noble blood

Will fall to the shadows.

One voice will call,

One hand shall lead,

One soul, one heart

One empire rising.

The adults in the room were all silent for a few moments after the last words faded into silence. Then:

“Fadenth Sourainge has no sons to take his place when the time comes,” he heard his father say quietly. “His wife suffered four miscarriages before she finally gave birth – and that child was a girl.”

“That prophecy has been made time and again for nearly four thousand years, your Grace,” the emissary informed him. “Only in the past, no one seemed to take it seriously.” There was a pause. “Until now, of course, that the heir apparent to the Duchy of Sourainge is female rather than male.”

Artavian gasped at that. He quickly covered his mouth; luckily, no one seemed to have heard him. He met the girl in question, the only child of the Souraingite Grand Duke. She was a quiet sort of girl and Artavian had dismissed her outright as one of those milksop princesses like his sister and her friends. He played a trick on her involving an open door and a bucket of water; he did not expect her to retaliate. It was, as he recollected rather glumly, not one of the smartest things he’d ever done as she nearly beat him to a pulp when she caught up with him. To be quite frank about it, she had heavier hands than most boys their age and it took a whole week for the bruises to fade.

His curiosity now piqued, the boy put the ball down by the door and tiptoed into the room. Apparently, it was not just a room but a suite of several. On silent feet, he slipped through the anteroom and into a second chamber. This one was really cold, almost like the refrigerated room up in the palace kitchen where meat, fish, and those frozen desserts the ducal family was so fond of were stored. It was also very dark and the only light came in the form of small colored pinpoints, like those on a control console for a machine.

As he inched through the room, he noticed that the walls felt different. It was as if the walls were made of steel. Not only that, it seemed like the walls were segmented: rectangular blocks spaced about a foot from each other. Muttering slightly under breath, he took a small multi-knife from his pocket and pulled out the miniature flashlight to see better.

He wished he hadn’t when he saw that what his hands were passing over weren’t walls but a line of what appeared to be steel tanks with digital displays and clear glass windows in front. What was shown in the displays only made Artavian more uncomfortable.

There were names and dates glowing in the panels. Some names were unnervingly familiar: they were the names of princes, the sons of his father’s fellow oligarchs. Some were familiar because they were the names of the sons of a number of noble Haikahnese houses.

Kandren… Shilmaris… Anverdis…

Artavian stopped before one of the tanks when he saw the name Martindale flashed in the front panel. He frowned at this and drew in for a closer look.

Not Jartram du Martindale? he thought. Jartram was the eldest son, the heir apparent of the Grand Duke of Faimeh. Artavian knew him because he would escort his sister at diplomatic functions. Audene was sweet on him and Jar made no secret of the fact that he felt the same way. It was rather sickening the way they behaved when they were together.

Artavian stared in disbelief at the name in the panel: Jartram Hathris so Meade du Martindale, Marquis of Saori.

“What’s this?” Artavian muttered, standing on tiptoe to peer through the glass panel on the tank.

What he saw made him scream in genuine horror.

***

“Shh…” Tenderly, Eowhin de Haikahn tried to comfort the gibbering child on her lap. The intensity of their discussion on the prophecy of the Klossian High Oracle was cut short by a high-pitched scream just outside her main laboratory.

The first thing she saw as soon as her husband threw back the door was their son Artavian sprawled on the floor, staring in horror at the hypermaturation tank that held Jartram du Martindale. Eowhin quickly scooped the sobbing boy in her arms and tried to soothe him.

“I’m sorry!” he wailed. “I didn’t… I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to come here! We just dropped our ball…”

Grayfaith von Haikahn, normally a stern father to his children, was suddenly gentle and crouched down so that he was eye-level with Artavian.

“Now you know why Mother and I forbade you to come here,” he said in a soft voice.

“What is this place, Father?” Artavian asked in a wobbly voice. “Is Jar dead?”

“No, Artie, not dead,” Grayfaith assured the child. “None of the boys in the tanks are dead.”

“They’re asleep,” Eowhin added. “Not the sort of sleep you do every night, though. This is different – much different, as a matter of fact.”

“Is he sick?”

“No, dear.”

“Then, why…”

Eowhin turned to Grayfaith, a question in her eyes. The latter looked thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged.

“If he’s old enough to ask the questions, then he’s probably old enough to hear the answers,” was all he would say on the matter. He turned to the emissary with a grin. “My good Xortre, would you be so kind as to pass by the kitchen? I think our young lad here needs a spot of hot chocolate or almond milk.”

The emissary bowed and smiled kindly at the still-trembling child. “Of course, your Grace,” he said. He bowed again and left the room.

“This is a Matrix’s lab, son,” Grayfaith explained, taking Artavian from his mother. He carried the boy into the room just beyond where the tanks were. All sorts of medical monitors were installed in the room, glass-fronted cabinets held scalpels and other implements or jars filled with various medications or chemical compounds.

“A Matrix is a sort of doctor?” Artavian asked.

“Sort of,” Eowhin chimed in agreement. “We’re doctors and teachers at the same time. We make sure that young princes will grow up strong, healthy, and wise enough to lead their people when the time comes.”

His small eyes widening in wonder, Artavian looked up at his father. “Did you sleep like them, Father?”

Grayfaith nodded. “I did,” he replied. “And so will Schendahl when he turns sixteen and Bander of Sullah, as well.”

“Will I need to sleep like them?”

Grayfaith turned worriedly to Eowhin. “I… I do not know, as yet, son,” he admitted truthfully. “To go into hypermaturation means you’re going to be a Grand Duke or you’ll be married to a Grand Duchess when you’re all grown up.”

“Do girls have to sleep like them, too?”

Eowhin shook her head. “The process for girls is different,” she said.

“But what about Maedris La Sourainge?” Artavian wondered. “She doesn’t have any big brothers. Is she going to be Grand Duchess someday?”

Grayfaith looked somber at that point and looked over to his wife. “We aren’t sure about that now,” he admitted. “We always thought she would be Grand Duchess, but now it seems like things are going to be different.”

“She’s going to have a little brother?”

Eowhin shook her head, her lips pursed into a thin line. She regarded her son intently. “How much of what we were talking about did you hear?” she asked him.

“Um…” Artavian screwed his little face up as he tried to recollect what had been said. “You and Father and the man who was here were talking about something from Klos. Then, there was the voice of a really old lady.” He looked up at his father, his face pale. “Who was she, Father? Her voice was really creepy!”

“That was the High Oracle of Klos,” Eowhin replied. “Lysuva ni Therama, Maedris’s grandmother.”

“What’s an Oracle, Mother?”

“Someone who can see the future, dear.” Eowhin sighed worriedly and absently began putting some of her instruments back into place. “What she said is one of a series of verses called the Oracle of the Rising Empire.”

Grayfaith settled Artavian down on a nearby chair and sat down in the one across from it. “Many, many years ago,” he began, “the fortune tellers of Klos said that the eight provinces of Taryan would be united under a single ruler.

“They said that an oligarch’s daughter would be led astray by enemies, people who would fill her head with thoughts of wealth and power. This princess would try to conquer Taryan and enslave the people.

“However, the Oracle also speaks of a second princess, the first girl to become heir apparent. This one would rise to lead us all against the princess of shadows and the oligarchs will promise her their loyalty.”

Artavian cocked his head to one side curiously. “What’ll happen if the princess doesn’t beat the evil one?” he asked.

Grayfaith regarded the child grimly. “Then all Taryan will fall into the darkness.”

***

Two years later…

“Artie? Artie, where are you?”

“I’m in the lab, Gren.”

Grendlin von Haikahn peeked around the door. Inside, his older brother was hunched over a table and poring over his notes. There was a chemist’s set-up within his reach; a beaker filled with a clear liquid was bubbling over a burner.

“What are you doing?” the younger boy asked.

“Studying,” Artavian replied, looking up from his notes.

Grendlin pulled up a chair and sat down, regarding his brother with a dismal pout. “You’re no fun anymore,” he complained sulkily. “Kui (older brother) Schend’s always with Father, Aei is at school, and all you do is hang around Mother’s lab downstairs.”

“Kui needs to be with Father because Father’s teaching him how to be a Grand Duke,” Artavian explained, going back to his notes.

“But I haven’t anyone to play with!”

Artavian looked up and peered at his brother through his glasses. “Why don’t you help me out down here?” he suggested.

The little boy brightened up and leaned over to see what his brother was working on. “You’re learning how to turn someone into a Homo mirabilis!” he marveled breathlessly. “Wicked cool!” He pointed to the stuff in the beaker. “Is that viar?”

Artavian nodded. “Yup, it’s what cushions a guy inside the tank for the whole five years he spends in hypermaturation,” he explained as he turned off the burner.

“You’re learning how to make it?”

“Yup.” He reached for a small dish and poured a measure of the liquid into it.

“It looks kinda runny,” Grendlin noted.

“Yes, but…” Artavian held the dish to him. “Try poking it.”

The boy hesitated for a moment, then tapped at the substance with his finger. To his wonder, it flowed about the dish like an ordinary liquid, but it went solid almost as soon as he touched it. He gasped, obviously impressed by this.

Before he could say anything, however, a girl about Artavian’s age came into the room without so much as knocking. Artavian looked up and raised an eyebrow at her.

“Shouldn’t you be upstairs with the Grand Dukes?” he demanded without preamble.

“Your father called for a recess,” the girl replied, coming to stand beside him. “How are the Matrix lessons going?”

“Pretty well, I guess.”

“Hullo, Aei Maedris.” Grendlin got up and went to hug the newcomer who playfully ruffled his hair.

“Hullo, Gren. What are you doing here? It’s kinda boring; wouldn’t you like to go play with Ninaris upstairs?” Ninaris was the heir apparent to the province of Dahm where her mother was Grand Duchess. She was a pretty little girl the same age as Grendlin and the two had been friends from the cradle.

Grendlin smiled eagerly. “Nari’s upstairs?” he exclaimed, bolting out of the room.

“Practically bonded to each other, aren’t they?” Maedris remarked when the boy had gone.

“Sort of,” Artavian agreed. He narrowed his already small eyes at Maedris. “What are you doing here, really?”

“I came to see you,” she replied, sitting in the chair Grendlin vacated. She playfully stuck her tongue out at him. “Seeing how you’ve been so antisocial of late, I decided to come visit.”

Artavian scowled, but she merely laughed at him. They were too much alike: the same age, mostly the same interests, and they shared a peculiar sort of precociousness and a rather adult manner of speaking. Honestly, Artavian couldn’t help but feel as if Maedris La Sourainge already had him cornered.

“Much as I appreciate your visit, I suggest you go on back up,” he advised her coldly.

Maedris pouted, but her eyes glittered mirthfully. “I suppose,” she drawled, “that you’ll be a crusty old bachelor of a genetic engineer.” She threw him a pleading look. “Come up and play, Artie.”

“I can’t!” he protested, gesturing towards his workplace. “There’s too much for me to do!”

“What’s so important that you can’t leave it alone for a few minutes?” she demanded, grabbing his notes. He would have snatched them away, but she was quick to swat him off. As she read them, her eyes widened. She looked up, a grave look on her face. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“It’s a hypothesis, Maedris,” Artavian told her.

“But you’re trying to make my decision for me!” she all but screamed at him, flinging the notes at him violently. Angrily, she stomped out of the room.

Artavian stared after her, flustered by her tirade but did not dare move. A few minutes later, his mother came in and demanded answers.

“Maedris went down here to say hello and she went back upstairs in tears,” she informed her son severely. “What did you do?”

Mutely, Artavian handed her the notes that so horrified Maedris. Eowhin sank into a chair and read through them carefully.

“A Homo mirabilis who spends a longer time in viar?” she exclaimed, obviously intrigued.

“Well, he spends two years in viar,” Artavian explained. “Then he spends a year on the outside, another two years in the soup, one more year out, and just two more years in the tank. He’s then able to interact more, to learn more, and his body gets accustomed to its enhancements much quicker, allowing him to maximize his abilities.”

Eowhin nodded slowly. “This is all well and good,” she said in a quiet voice. “But what noble family will be willing enough… For that matter, what boy would be willing enough to undergo such a revolutionary process?” When she looked up, she went very pale when she saw the grim look on her son’s face. “Oh, no… No, Artie…”

Artavian, however, nodded. “If the prophecy is true,” he said, “then Maedris needs someone strong and capable enough to fight and rule by her side. She doesn’t need some ordinary fellow who’ll just do as he’s told.”

“As a Matrix, I admire you for your initiative,” his mother told him. “But, as your mother, I worry as to how things are going to be. Besides, what if the prophecy isn’t true?”

Artavian smiled at her. “Then Maedris marries someone who can easily put her in her place,” was all he said regarding the matter.

No Need for Normalcy! - Chapter Twenty-One

Okay, so I've hauled my plump self over to the keyboard again for yet another madcap chapter of No Need for Normalcy!

This is for everyone who felt more than a little disoriented from reading Chapter Twenty. (Gib and Luce are officially a couple now? How'd that happen?)

Chapter Twenty-one: The [Young] Man in Luce's Life

The message got YM'd in at around three in the afternoon:

Heya! U busy? :)

Luce smiled and keyed in her reply:

Not much. (:| So bored! What can I do for you?

There was a slight pause. Then:

Did u commute 2 work 2day? Coz I can pick u up @ the office if u want.

What's up?

Nothing much. Just wanted 2 c u. :D

Luce looked thoughtful at that, then checked her watch and her planner.

I don't have anything planned for tonight, she replied. I can just take the MRT over to Makati if you want to meet up.

Presently, her phone rang.

"IntelliSystems," she greeted the caller; she already had an inkling as to who it was. "Tell me you're not going to pester me about the archival software we bought from you guys."

"I won't," Gilbert laughed in reply. "I wouldn't pester you, Lu."

"Oh, really?" Luce raised an eyebrow at that. "Then what do you call what you did when we were thinking of getting that project management suite?"

Gilbert laughed loudly at that point. "That was silly of me, wasn't it?" he chuckled.

"Very; I'm glad you outgrew being pesky, babe. So, what's up?"

"Kitty's gone home to Tagaytay, hasn't she?"

"Yes, actually." Luce thought of her younger sister. The kid was just so relieved that finals were over and she could head home to the orchard to recuperate. "She won't be in town for a while."

"Since you don't have any plans and will be coming home to an empty house, why don't you join me for dinner?"

"What? With you and Guama?"

"Um, no." Gilbert seemed to hesitate. "Just us."

"Oh."

Luce's heart fluttered a little at that. She and Gilbert often went out to lunch on weekends and usually spent the afternoons hanging out together. Sometimes, she would come along and make up a fourth for a game of mahjongg with his friends; other times, the two of them would join her friends for poker games where the stakes were scads and scads of fun-sized candy bars. Sunday nights, Luce (sometimes with Kitty and Fr. Nate in tow) would join the Huangs for dinner and had even hosted the evening meal once or twice over the past couple of months.

But dinner with just her and Gib?

It was something they'd never done before.

It was not, of course, something that she didn't look forward to. Far from it, as a matter of fact! But now...

"Why not?" she found herself saying. "Where would you like to meet up?"

"Um..." She heard the sound of riffling paper. "I'm pretty sure you've been to C'est Parisienne?"

"Mouse Lee's bistro?" Even at the mere mention of the restaurant, Luce could feel her mouth watering. "Oh, yes!" she breathed fervently. "His steaks are just too good for words!"

"Ah, a girl after my own heart," Gilbert declared merrily.

Ooh, le pavé de bœuf et foie gras! Luce thought with yearning. One of her favorite meals, most definitely. Coupled with a Merlot the color of Burmese rubies and enjoyed with the person she loved spending the most time with? Oh, the thought alone exuded a heavenliness Luce never experienced before.

"What's the special occasion?" she asked him.

"Nothing," he replied simply. "I just want to see you is all."

Luce blushed at that. Lord only knew how much she wanted to see him.

"I'll call the bistro and - can you make it at seven or would seven-thirty be better?" Gilbert asked.

Grimacing, Luce mentally computed the travel time via train from Quezon City to Makati. Barely twenty minutes in all; about thirty if she included the walk from the station to Greenbelt.

"Seven's okay," she replied.

"Great! I'll call Ahiya Mouse and grab us a table, then. I'll see you at seven, yes?"

"Yes, of course."

"Okay." Luce could sense Gilbert didn't want to put down the phone; she pretty much felt the same way. "Oh, and Lu?"

"Yes?"

She heard Gilbert take a deep breath. Then, "Um, is it too cheesy if I tell you I love you?"

Startled, Luce herself gasped. But, she was actually glad he said it.

"No, babe," she replied warmly. "It's not cheesy at all."

***

Mouse Lee, co-owner and head chef of C'est Parisienne (and rhythm guitarist for the popular band Scarlet Faction), was used to getting reservation requests from his friends and, quite a few times already, from their older or younger siblings.

That said, Mouse knew he shouldn't have been surprised when Gilbert Huang called to reserve a table for the coming evening. However, having known young Gilbert since childhood and seeing him every Sunday in church, it came as a surprise to Mouse that the boy was seeing someone.

It was an even bigger shock when Gilbert told him who it was.

"Call for the chef on line one!" the receptionist advised via intercom.

"Put it through, Jane," Mouse replied, motioning for an assistant to take his place at the saute station. "Mouse Lee here."

"Ahiya Mouse, hi!" a perky young voice replied. "It's Gib Huang."

"Hey, kid! Nice job on last Sunday's Bible reflection; quite thought-provoking bit on Job there. So: what can I do for you?"

"Could I please grab a table for tonight?"

"Hang on a sec." Mouse clicked the intercom and checked with the receptionist. "Jane, how's tonight looking up? Any vacancies?"

"We still have three four-tops and five deuces good to go, chef."

"Sweet." Mouse clicked off the intercom and got back to Gilbert. "How many people are you bringing along, Gib?"

"There's just two of us, Ahiya," came the reply.

Oho! Mouse thought mischievously. Baby-boy Huang's got a date! I wondered when he'd get over that Pang girl.

"I see," he said calmly. "So, what time will you be coming in?"

"Seven, Ahiya."

"Any preferences?" He'd known Aggie Pang; Lord, but that girl was fussier than a cat with a nasty case of indigestion! He hoped that Gib's new girl was a good eater; the boy had a healthy appetite and Mouse remembered hearing Bettina say that he deserved a girl who enjoyed her food.

"Just the best of what you have," Gilbert replied confidently. "She's quite the foodie."

Now we're talking! Mouse thought delightedly.

"Make me a happy man, Gib," Mouse said excitedly. "Tell me she's not a vegan."

"She's not. When I told her I was going to take her to your bistro, she said your steaks were too good for words."

That last statement seemed to freeze Mouse's brain for a moment. One of his friends described his steaks that way once.

"You've met her, actually," Gilbert continued. "She's Achi's best friend."

Mouse's jaw dropped at that.

"You're dating Luce Saavedra?" he shrilled in horrified disbelief.

***
Bettina! Tell me it isn't true!

Bettina Tanner frowned when Mouse Lee went online and popped the message.

What isn't true? she asked back.

I just got off the phone with your kid brother. He's taking Luce here for dinner tonight.

Oh, that. Bettina chuckled to herself.

Yes, exactly THAT. What's going on here, Bets?

They've been seeing each other for a couple months now. It was all Bettina opted to volunteer at that particular point in time. They like each other.

Doesn't it bother you?

Bettina frowned at that. Why should it bother me?

Bets, Gib's just a kid.

Mouse, FYI: my brother will be twenty-SIX in a few months. He's a grown man. He knows what he's doing.

There was a slight pause. Bettina sighed. Really: their friends were going haywire over this for all the wrong reasons!

Well, Mouse replied. At least, he's dating someone who ACTUALLY eats.

Bettina had to laugh at that.

***

"Sir, could you please sign this before you go?"

Gilbert glared at the bungling flunky who dared approach him at this late hour. It was a quarter to six and he wanted to get to C'est Parisienne to make sure everything was perfect for his evening with Luce.

"You should have taken this to me earlier," he said coldly. Nevertheless, he took out his pen and signed off the flunky's leave form. He scowled at the reason as he handed it back.

"Good Lord, Alexander!" he exasperated. "How many grandmothers do you have? This is the same reason you gave me last month - and the month before that!" He made a mental note to check with the HR people; as far as he could tell, most people only had two grandmothers apiece.

The flunky tried to stammer an explanation, but Gilbert waved him out. It was that or throttle the truth out of him, alas.

With the flunky gone, Gilbert surveyed the box of chocolates on his desk. He went through all the trouble to find the brand of chocolates Luce liked the most. It was Japanese and was only sold in a small shop in Quezon City. It was a good thing Fr. Nate and Kitty told him she was a fan of champagne truffle squares and he was just lucky that the shop still had a box - the last one in the shop! - available. He slid the gold-colored box back into its insulating sleeve and got ready to go.

As he cleaned up his desk for the weekend, he thought about the past couple of months. He and Luce had great times when they were together. They would look for books, go for walks, head to the museum, or watch movies. Sometimes, they would hang out at each other's houses, help each other cook, or just curl up on the couch and talk.

Of course, it wasn't all fun. His mind reeled back from the time he said something about the religious icons Luce had at home. God, but the debate had been dreadful! Then there was the time Luce snickered over a work-related email he sent her; she told him his grammar was atrocious. Boy, had he taken offense at that! The online (and offline) squabble was so bad that his Guama worried that they would never reconcile. Thankfully, Gilbert admitted that the remarks about religious images had been uncalled for and, yes: his grammar was enough to give English teachers nightmares. Luce, on the other hand, admitted that she did have a tendency to go off the deep end but had also graciously volunteered to help him with his linguistic issues.

So different from Aggie, he admitted to himself as he made his way out of the office. Aggie always insisted that she was right and he was wrong; she was a girl who never admitted her mistakes. Luce, on the other hand...

Gilbert smiled as he stepped into the elevator.

Well, Luce was Luce. He wouldn't have her any other way.

***

Luce was surprised to see that Gilbert was already at the bistro when she arrived. She found him chatting with Mouse at one of the more secluded booths in the restaurant. She heard them talking about local produce - a topic she knew both men were quite passionate about.

"Seriously," she heard Mouse tell Gilbert. "I don't understand why we have to import duck or goose livers from Europe. There are several farms up in Baguio and in Tagaytay who are already raising top-caliber ducks and geese."

"Achi says local farmers are still pretty clueless about the whole force-feeding process."

"That's not true! Why, just recently..."

"Gentlemen," Luce declared by way of greeting. "Good evening."

"Lu, hi!" At once, Gilbert was on his feet. He squeezed her hands in his and tenderly kissed her cheek as he ushered her into a seat. "No trouble coming here?"

She smiled and shook her head. "The foot traffic was pretty light for a payday Friday," she informed him. "You're here early."

"Your young friend was obsessing over the details, Luce," Mouse declared, rolling his eyes.

"Heya, Mouse!" Affectionately, Luce kissed both her friend's cheeks and asked after his wife and son. "Heard through the grapevine you're due for fatherhood - again."

Mouse threw his head back and laughed. "You heard that right," he declared proudly. "Piao was bugging Mei and me for a baby brother. Seems like he heard Bettina and Jake's Ginger bragging about his little sister at Sunday school."

"Well, it's about time!" Luce exclaimed. "I mean, Piao's almost four."

"True, true," Mouse nodded. "So, I daresay you two will put yourselves in my capable hands this evening? Or shall I send someone over with le menu?"

"Show us what you got, Ahiya," Gilbert replied with a smile. "You're the boss."

Mouse laughed and heartily gave Gilbert a slap on his shoulder. "That's what I like!" he declared. "A customer who places himself in my care." He winked playfully at Luce. "Just don't have this one for dessert, Luce."

Luce blinked innocently at him. "Now, why would you think that?"

"Be careful about this one, Gib," Mouse playfully cautioned the young man. "She turns into a gorgon when riled."

"You don't have to tell me that, Ahiya," Gilbert remarked with a rueful grin. "She's blown up at me several times already."

Mouse stared at him, then whistled admiringly. "And you're still alive?" he exclaimed, impressed. "Whoa!"

"Don't tease him, Mouse," Luce chided him.

"I wasn't teasing him, Luce!" Mouse protested.

"I wouldn't go against her if I were you," Gilbert advised him.

Mouse just laughed and waved to a passing waiter. "Get young Mr. Huang here and his young lady a Coke Zero and a ginger ale," he commanded the waiter. He then inclined his head politely to the couple and went back to the kitchen.

"I take it you gave poor Mouse quite a shock when you made the reservation?" Luce asked, grinning at Gilbert.

Gilbert laughed. "Sort of," he replied. He screwed his face up, looking puzzled as he did. "I don't understand why everyone flies off the handle when I tell them I'm dating you."

Luce regarded him soberly. "I'm older than you, remember," she said.

"Yes, but should it matter?" He eyed her intently.

"Well, it matters to other people, but..."

"Does it matter to you?"

Luce's eyes locked with Gilbert's. This was a side of him she hadn't seen before. While his intensity was a little nerve-racking, she couldn't help but find it disturbingly appealing.

"It did, at first," she admitted quietly. She lowered her head, effectively avoiding that intense gaze. "I didn't want people to laugh at you; I didn't want them to spread catty barbs and things. In fact, I didn't quite know how to tell Bettina at first."

"About what?"

Luce sighed. "After that meeting you had with me and Archie, I couldn't get you out of my head," she admitted. "It was so weird: whenever I tried to forget you, something that reminded me of you would pop up. I thought I was going crazy!" She looked up and saw that his gaze had softened a little. "I couldn't sleep; I couldn't eat! I don't know how it happened, but my every waking thought involved you in one way or another."

"That's not weird," Gilbert told her quietly.

"How can you say that?"

"Because that's how I've felt about you since the day we first met."

Luce stared at him, her brain confused and her heart pounding.

"Gib..." she stammered.

Gently, Gilbert pressed a finger to her lips. "So now you know," he said with a smile. "And now, I know, too."

"This..." Luce gulped. "This is so awkward."

"Remember when I kissed you in your kitchen?" He cocked his head to one side, his grin playful. "The night we had dinner with YuYa and everyone?"

Luce blushed. Oh, she remembered that only too well.

"I couldn't say it outright, so I just did something that would get the point across."

Luce could only nod. He definitely made a point that evening!

He was about to say something else when a waiter arrived to set bowls of what appeared to be a fragrant seafood bisque before each of them.

"The chef would like to know how you would like your beef done," the waiter advised them.

"I'll have mine medium-rare," Gilbert told him. "Lu?"

Luce thought about that, then slid a sly glance at Gilbert. She motioned the waiter to come closer and murmured her request.

"Garcon, je voudrais le filet mignon. Je le voudrais rare cuit et est-ce que je pourrais également avoir quelques foie gras avec lui s'il vous plait?" The waiter grinned and nodded. Luce smiled. "Merci."

"What was that all about?" Gilbert asked, his curiosity piqued.

"You'll see."


The soup was delicious: a robust lobster bisque that was smooth and velvety on the tongue. As they ate, they steered their minds clear of what had just been said and simply focused on the food.

Well, at least, till the main courses came.

Gilbert's plate held a tender beef fillet with a red wine reduction with julienned vegetables as well as a slice of creme dory on garlic noodles. Luce's plate, on the other hand, bore a beautiful filet mignon that was seared properly on both sides with pinkish jus spilling onto squares of herb-flecked polenta and mushrooms in a balsamic vinaigrette. On top of the filet was what appeared to be a generous knob of butter melting into the meat.

Gilbert stared at the fragrant, melting glob and stated aloud, "I didn't know you could get butter for your steak."

"It's not butter," Luce corrected him, slicing a bite-sized morsel off and spreading a bit of the mysterious substance onto it. She speared it onto her fork and offered it to Gilbert with a sly smile. "Here, have some."

Gilbert looked at it nervously, but ate the morsel anyway. To Luce's delight, his eyes widened in shock and he stared in awe at the dish before her.

"Was that what I think it was?" he gasped.

"What did you think it was?"

"I could have sworn that was foie gras!"

"It is," Luce chuckled, cutting the filet in half. She pushed her plate towards him. "Go on and have some more of it, dear."

Sheepishly, Gilbert pushed his plate towards her. "Only if you have some of mine," he offered shyly.

They ate in silence for a few moments, cheerfully eating off each other's plates and savoring the experience.

"We could do this at home one of these days," Gilbert remarked dreamily after Luce fed him the last bit of foie gras-drenched beef. "But it's kind of hard to find good liver here."

"Well, we could go to Tagaytay tomorrow if you're free," Luce suggested after Gilbert gave her another bite of fish. "Dad could pick out a good goose for Sunday's dinner."

"Your dad raises geese?"

"And ducks," Luce replied with a nod. "Along with mangoes and dragonfruit and tamarinds." She beamed at Gilbert. "He and Mom would love to meet you."

Gilbert looked flushed at that. "What have you told them about me?" he asked her. "Do they know..." His voice trailed off worriedly.

Luce nodded calmly. "Plus that you're not Catholic," she said quietly. "But Dad said it was okay so long as you're Christian and you go to church regularly." She smiled. "He puts great stock in such things."

"Well, I hope I don't disappoint him and your mother," Gilbert murmured cautiously. He eyed her lovingly. "Or you," he said as he reached across to touch her cheek.

Luce held his hand and pressed it closer to her face. She closed her eyes and sighed.

"You're serious about this, aren't you?" she said without opening her eyes.

"I've been serious about it since that meeting last January," Gilbert told her gently.

When Luce opened her eyes, she saw the tenderness, the love he had for her written quite plainly on his face.

***

They walked hand in hand to where Gilbert parked his car and, for the most part, they were both silent on the drive home.

Still, it was not an uncomfortable silence. If one asked Gilbert about it, he would describe it as the sort of silence sometimes observed by his parents when they were alive: a companionable silence, the sort of silence one shares with someone he or she really cares about.

From time to time, Luce would pop a truffle square into his mouth or offer him a sip of water from the cold bottle they bought at a gas station. Whenever the traffic came to a halt, he would tenderly rest his head on her shoulder till the light changed.

"So..." Gilbert broke the silence as they descended the Skyway. "Who gets to tell who?"

Luce shrugged. "I'll tell my camp if you tell yours," she said. "Of course, the twins think it's pretty much a foregone conclusion and so does Nate."

"Did you know that Guama and Ahiya have a standing bet on when you're going to be my girlfriend?"

Luce stared at him, obviously amused. "You're kidding!" she exclaimed.

"I'm not!" Gilbert laughed. "They actually put serious money on it."

"Seriously?"

"Yep."

And as they laughed, the closing lines of their favorite song drifted through the airwaves.

"I wish things would stay the same" -
It's all I can dream of now.
And this love I feel for you
Is the one thing I'll never forget.

+++

I have to thank Nix for giving me the idea about Gilbert and the foie gras; it was supposed to appear in one of the earliest chapters, but I didn't quite know where to place it.

Incidentally, Mouse Lee is a character in one of my previous online novels Bitter/Sweet.

Oh, and if you got hungry whilst reading this chapter? It ain't my fault; sorry.

As with all my other writing projects, you probably know the drill already. Did you like this chapter? If you did, please feel free to write your comments at the end of this post.

Plus, if you want to get more updates regarding No Need for Normalcy or any of my other writing projects, drop me a line at midge.manlapig@gmail.com.

No Need for Normalcy! - Chapter Twenty

This cannot be good: the last time I updated No Need for Normalcy! was on 06th March - that can't be good, hai?

It's been a busy two (or, well, closer to three) months for me and it hasn't been the happiest time. (As seen in every line of poetry I've written since March.) But we just have to - as stated in Meet the Robinsons - keep moving forward.

So, without further ado, we have Chapter Twenty...

Chapter Twenty: Rush

When Shinichi Nishiyama arrived in Manila, he really should have taken a hint and gone back to Tokyo post-haste.

For one thing, it rained - and it rained hard. As if that weren't bad enough, it was April. Climate change notwithstanding, rain in Manila in April was definitely not normal at all.

Unfortunately, Shinichi wasn't very perceptive when it came to omens. Indeed, he was more than a little resolute about things when he arrived in the country he'd grown up in. He would get to the bottom of this mess involving Luce and that brat (as he referred to the youngest Huang in his own mind) and he would knock some sense into his friend. If necessary, he would drag her back to Japan. After all, what thirty-ish woman in her right mind would be mad enough to fall for someone six years her junior? The very idea was just plain mad, in Shinichi's opinion and he wanted to get to the gist of it all ASAP.

Unfortunately for him, events were about to take a most unusual turn...

***

It was a Saturday and Bettina was pleasantly surprised to see a few people from her college crowd among the diners at the Ginger Noodle.

The Miyaharas - Torch and his very pregnant wife Hecate - were happily slurping from bowls of steamy-hot won ton noodle soup. Praxi was also there with her husband Jules and their two kids; the latter were excitedly poring over the dimsum menu and begging both parents for one item or another. Behind the counter, Graham and Mardi were helping out with orders and payments. Even Jake - who closed his clinic on Saturdays - was cheerfully waiting tables.

Bettina could also see that some of Gilbert's friends had occupied one of the corner booths. Shigeru Nishiyama and Mateo Se seemed to be vying against each other as to who could eat more dimsum. The pile of baskets on their table was growing rapidly. The married couples of that particular set - the Sanno Nishiyamas and the Ardith Tiongsons - sat at a separate table and were more soberly discussing something over noodles and roast pork buns. (Bettina was pretty sure that it was about young Mrs. Nishiyama's pregnancy; Gilbert had mentioned it in passing at the previous weekend's family dinner.)

And speaking of Gilbert... Bettina smiled as she thought about her youngest brother. He looked incredibly uplifted at the last dinner which was, surprisingly (or not, depending on how you looked at it), hosted by Luce Saavedra. There was a different level of confidence her brother seemed to exude at the dinner and the reason for it had not been much of a surprise. No, of course not; Guama and Graham had a standing bet - not on if it would happen but when. Graham had, alas, lost; then again, Bettina reminded herself that her twin was a lousy gambler, anyway.

"You seem to be one man short, Achi," Annette Tiongson commented when Bettina came to refill their teapot.

"Gib's in Tagaytay right now," Bettina replied serenely.

"What's up?" Sanno Nishiyama asked.

"Luce invited him over," Bettina said. "Lunch with her parents, I guess."

To say that the table had fallen silent was a gross understatement. When Bettina looked up from pouring more tea, four shocked faces greeted her.

"Is he..." Pura Nishiyama stammered. "I mean, well, is she... Are they...?"

Bettina simply smiled at that.

"What do you think?" was all she asked regarding the matter.

***

"She's not home, boys; sorry."

Shinichi looked ready to explode and would have gone utterly ballistic if Shura hadn't placed a placating hand on his shoulder.

Almost as soon as they got off the plane, Shinichi grabbed a cab and dragged Shura along to Luce's house in Paranaque. To his great consternation, he found the young lady of the house gone and YuYa - his "runaway" guitarist - at the door. As if that hadn't been enough of a shock, YuYa casually told them that Luce went to Tagaytay to visit her parents.

"Her car's still in the garage," Shinichi grated as YuYa ushered them into the living room.

"It would be," YuYa replied blandly. "Her young man picked her up. It's not like he doesn't have a car of his own, Shinichi."

"Some cheap Korean or Chinese jalopy, I'll bet," Shinichi muttered as he sank indecorously onto the sofa.

YuYa said nothing. He calmly sat on a nearby armchair while Shura sat beside Shinichi. The gay guitarist raised an eyebrow at his boss's scowling face.

"You do realize that nothing you say or do at this point in time will mean anything to Lusia," he remarked archly. "I know why you're here, Shinichi."

"He's a kid, YuYa!" Shinichi grumbled. "Luce will eat him alive if he isn't careful. Brats like that are too young to be playing with fire."

"He's not a brat and he's not too young," YuYa quietly corrected him. "He'll be twenty-six soon."

"And Luce's pushing thirty-two! God damn it, YuYa - she's six years older than he is! It does not look right!" Shinichi sat back and drew a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. "Got a light?"

YuYa's nostrils flared angrily. "You smoke in this house and I will personally throw you out!" he shrilled. "You - of all people! - ought to remember that Luce can't stand the smell of cigarette smoke. It was one of the reasons why her last relationship fell apart in the end!"

"I don't suppose her boy-toy smokes?"

"He doesn't; doesn't drink, either."

"What good is he for, then?" Shinichi demanded insultingly. "A goody-two-shoe-milksop and a spitfire like Luce?" He snorted indignantly. "It won't work, YuYa."

"And how can you be so sure, Mr. I-am-so-goddamned-sure-I'm-right?" YuYa hissed back, half-rising from his seat, eyes flashing angrily. "In all the years we've known Luce, I've never seen her make a mistake about anyone's character. Which, if I may add, is more than I can say about you!"

"She did make a mistake, remember!" Shinichi shouted back. "She took up with that Arevalo bastard! Fine judge of character she was!"

"Calm down, guys," Shura mumbled placatingly, his eyes shifting nervously between his friends. "I'm sure..."

"Shut up, Shura!" both Shinichi and YuYa yelled at him. Cowed, Shura meekly backed off.

***

Meanwhile, Sophia Koa was humming to herself as she knit yet another pair of booties for Bettina's little girl Giselle.

Everything was, in the Koa matriarch's personal opinion, falling into place and was right on schedule.

As she sat in the sunny living room, Yi-Che purring happily beside her on the couch, Sophia's mind returned to the events of the previous evening...

He came home looking about as happy as he'd been when both his parents were still alive; such a brilliant smile, such a glow about his person!

"Had a good day at work, syoti?" Sophia asked him when he stooped to kiss her cheek.

"And then some, Guama," Gilbert replied, his small eyes positively shining with happiness.

Sophia narrowed her eyes at him slyly. "It's about Lusia, isn't it?" she asked.

A vivid blush colored Gilbert's face and his smile grew even more joyful than it already was.

"It is." He spoke calmly, but one could sense the great excitement he was desperately trying to suppress behind the words. He dimpled up and declared - the joy in his heart ringing loudly with each word - "She loves me, Guama! Luce loves me!"

Sophia opened her arms to her grandson and he immediately flew into her embrace. He sat at her feet, normally pale face flushed with excitement.

"I was afraid she'd say 'no'," he admitted nervously. "But she didn't and you can't imagine - oh, Guama!" More soberly, he added, "I wish Mama and Papa were here to see this." He looked up, a worried expression furrowing his brow. "D'you suppose they'd approve, Guama? I mean, Lu is older than me and..."

Quickly, Sophia pressed a finger to his lips to silence him. "Hush," she said. "Hush, syoti. Should it even matter who's older or who's younger? I don't think either of your parents would have disappoved of Lusia - she's a lovely girl!"

"Even if she isn't Chinese?"

"Gilbert, did either of your siblings marry Chinese people?"

"No, but..."

"Did your father disapprove of Jacob for your Achi or, for that matter, Mardi for your Ahiya?"

"No, and..."

"And if you're going to bring up that she's Catholic and you're not, why ~"

Gilbert held his hand up to quell her. "I get it, Guama," he hastened to assure her. "I see the point."

Grimly, Sophia muttered something about people sticking to outdated and baseless traditions under her breath.

"Did you tell her?" Sophia demanded.

"That your side of the family's Catholic? Oh, Guama..." Mischievously, Gilbert winked at her. "Like she says, I'll burn the bridge when I get there..."

Sophia chuckled to herself at the recollection of the previous evening's events. Dear, sweet Gilbert - how he'd grown up! She shook her head in a slighly melancholy, somewhat indulgent manner; her youngest grandchild was all grown up and properly courting. This was no adolescent fancy, some childish infatuation; one look at Gilbert told Sophia everything she needed to know.

Her youngest grandson was determined to play for keeps.

However, Sophia knew that her side of the family weren't the young man's only relatives. The boy would, sooner or later, have to deal with the bigots on his father's side of the family - and a regular howling bunch they were!

Sophia never objected to Gregory Huang when he went off and married her favorite daughter. Greg was a sweet boy - he had a gentlemanly manner he'd passsed on to both his sons. He took care of Anastacia right up to the day he died; and really, one could not blame the woman for losing her will to live after he passed on. What Sophia had always objected to was Greg's mother.

From what Gilbert told her some few weeks before, the old bat already had a potential candidate for the boy's future wife. Sophia had made her own discreet queries and discovered that Old Lady Huang was fielding a certain Monica Tam, the youngest daughter of a family that ran several jewelry shops in the southern provinces. She seemed to be a nice girl: convent-college-educated, currently helping with the family business and all.

Of course, Sophia also discovered that said family business was not as honest as her late son-in-law's mother believed; nor was Monica Tam some sweet, can-do-no-wrong colegiala type.

Far from it, as a matter of fact.

Sophia set aside her knitting basket and reached for the cordless phone. She dialed a number from memory, one that belonged to one of her oldest and dearest friends. It was going to be a long-distance call, of course; she would pay Gilbert, of course. The boy was definitely going to protest and hand her back the money, but she'd still pay for it.

Presently, the phone on the other end of the line began to ring. Finally, a voice: a woman's voice, strong and resolute like Lusia's, just as rich in timbre, if made just a tinge rusty by advanced years.

"Imatani-no-uchi desu," the voice declared firmly. "Kore wa Carmela desu. Kore wa donata desu ka?"

"Carmela, hello!" Sophia trilled. "It's Sophie - Sophia Koa!"

There was a startled pause then and equally exuberant answer. "Sophie!" the voice declared. "Sophie, how are you? I haven't seen you since your poor Anastacia died! It's been too long!"

"I know!" Sophia narrowed her eyes speculatively. "You must come to Manila soon, dear."

"Oh, Sophie!" Carmela Imatani protested. "I'm getting too old for a whirl of gaiety!"

"Oh, come!" Sophia chided her. "We'll always be a pair of giddy schoolgirls fibbing about going to Mass then going for ice cream sundaes at the old Milky Way."

Carmela laughed; Sophia marveled at how similar her laughter sounded to her granddaughter's. "Don't tease me so, Sophie! What's going on in Manila that's so important? I told my Luce - that's my Louisa's eldest girl - that I'd only come back to Manila when she got married!"

Sophia smiled wickedly at that. "Well, in that case, I'd say you and Ted had better come on over," she said. "It's high time."

There was another shocked pause.

Then, "What on earth are you talking about, Sophie?"

"Your granddaughter Luce? I've met her." Sophie chuckled. "She's my youngest grandson's girlfriend."

***

"I still don't see what Luce sees in that kid!" Shinichi grated.

It was already late in the afternoon. Shura had fallen asleep on the couch, so YuYa and Shinichi continued their still-heated discussion in the kitchen. YuYa spent much of the afternoon telling his boss about how Luce's courtship had gone. Frankly speaking, Shinichi didn't think much of it. To him, it was neither impressive or exciting. He was of the opinion that a woman like Luce ought to be courted in the most flamboyant manner possible.

YuYa, however, shook his head.

"Sometimes, women don't want to be swept off their feet," he remarked sagely. "Sooner or later, the best of them realize that neither the bad boy with the killer good looks nor the smooth talker with the come-hither gaze will be there to stay." He pursed his lips thoughtfully as he stirred his tea. "Sometimes, it's those guys you call 'milksops' who are man enough to heed the call of the altar."

"You couldn't pay me to get married, YuYa," Shinichi muttered.

"I wasn't talking about you, baka!" YuYa grunted, playfully swiping at Shinichi's head. "I'm of the opinion that people can - and will - drop everything, even settle into domesticity when the right person shows up." He smiled slightly. "Or, even the mousiest of men become tigers or lions when they meet the right girl."

Shinichi was about to say something disparaging about Luce's young man when they heard a car pull up in front of the house.

"That'll be Luce," YuYa said, rising to his feet. Shinichi followed him out the kitchen door and into the front yard.

"I told you my mom and dad liked you," they heard Luce say as she entered the gate.

"Well, yes, but..." A slender young man followed her in, several baskets laden with fruit in his arms. "I think your dad overdid it with the mangoes, Lu."

"If it isn't my truant PR manager," Shinichi declared soon as they were in view.

"Oh, hi, Shinichi." To Shinichi's consternation, Luce greeted him as if they'd only seen each other the previous day. She turned to her companion, "Babe, this is Shinichi Nishiyama - aka Subaru Nishiyama of Pleiades Project."

"Hi!" came the cheerful greeting. Shinichi saw that he was a very pale young man who would probably not look out of place in the cast of a Taiwanese soap opera, save for his geeky wire-rimmed glasses. "You're Sanno and Shig's big brother; nice to meet you." Apologetically, he held up the baskets in his arms. "I'd shake your hand, but..."

Impatiently, Shinichi waved him off. "Not a prob," he grunted.

"Shinichi, this is Gilbert Huang." The smile on Luce's face, in Shinichi's mind, was pure wickedness. "My boyfriend."

Shinichi raised an eyebrow at that and said nothing. Muttering to himself about the blindness of women, he followed YuYa out the gate to help with the rest of the stuff.

To his complete and utter bewilderment, the creaky old jalopy he expected the boy to drive turned out to be a late model Jaguar - in the perfect shade of scarab green that Shinichi had lusted over for years.

Shinichi stared first at the car, then at the grinning YuYa.

Then, "Lusia! I want a word with you..."

+++

Sorry if there isn't much of Luce and Gib in this chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it. ;p

As with all my other writing projects, you probably know the drill already. Did you like this chapter? If you did, please feel free to write your comments at the end of this post.

Plus, if you want to get more updates regarding No Need for Normalcy or any of my other writing projects, drop me a line at midge.manlapig@gmail.com.

No Need for Normalcy! - Chapter Fifteen

Hi, everyone! The good news is that you don't have to wait an additional two months to read the next chapter of No Need for Normalcy! - because it's already here! Chapter Fifteen starts where Chapter Fourteen ended.

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it...

Chapter Fifteen: Dinner at the Huangs’

The last thing he remembered was hearing Miss Luce speak in Fookien; after that, everything went dark.

When he awakened, her worried face was the first thing he saw. She was wafting a bit of cotton soaked in ammonia beneath his nose. He blinked, thinking it was all an illusion. Then, he squeezed his eyes shut again.

“Are you okay?” he heard her ask him.

He opened his eyes again and saw her clasp both his hands in hers.

“His hands are cold,” she told Jake who sat beside her on the floor.

“Did you eat anything at all today?” Jake asked him.

“I had a proper lunch,” Gilbert replied weakly. He propped himself up on his elbows and squinted at them. He winced when everything seemed to spin around him. “I just had a bit of a shock, I think.” He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “Jeez, that was nasty…”

Yaya Bea came in and handed him a glass of water. Nearby, his grandmother sat in an armchair flanked by the twins, Mardi, and a girl he’d never seen before. Gua ma Sophia regarded him worriedly.

“Are you getting enough sleep, syoti?” she asked him in a stern tone of voice.

Gilbert sat up and took a few sips of water. Oh, boy… he thought worriedly. I’ll be in major hot water if Gua ma finds out about my insomnia.

“Syoti?”

“Um, yes, Gua ma,” he replied.

He slid a sidelong glance at Miss Luce. A single raised eyebrow pretty much told him that she wasn’t buying the story he was trying to sell his grandmother.

“Your glasses,” she murmured to him, handing over the wire-framed spectacles.

“Thanks,” he replied.

“Well, if you’re feeling better, I think we should go into the dining room,” Gua ma said, rising decisively.

“You can all go ahead,” Gilbert assured them. “I’ll catch up.”

Everyone followed Gua ma into the dining room. Everyone, that is, except for Luce. She hauled herself off the floor and sat next to Gilbert on the sofa.

“You lied to your grandmother, you know,” she told him quietly.

“Yeah,” Gilbert admitted shamefacedly. Wearily, he rubbed his eyes before putting his glasses back on. “I just don’t like it whenever she fusses over me. It’s not like I’m around Pixie’s age or Ginger’s.” He frowned and turned to look at her. “It’s not like I don’t like my grandmother,” he was quick to assure her. “Only, it’s my mother I miss whenever she fusses.”

Miss Luce regarded him with understanding. She took one of his hands and squeezed it. “When we were in school,” she said, “the twins used to gripe and say that your mom and dad loved you better than either of them.” She smiled. “Probably because, according to Graham, you were better behaved than either him or Bettina.”

“Not really,” Gilbert admitted with a smile. “Ask Achi; she’ll tell you about the time when we were on vacation in Baguio and I put a couple lizards in her bed.”

“You didn’t!” Luce exclaimed in horrified glee.

“I did!” Gilbert laughed. “Dad said her screams probably echoed across the whole Mountain Province.”

“Graham scammed it up with you, didn’t he?”

“No, I did it on my own.” Gilbert dimpled impishly at her.

Miss Luce gaped at him, as if she couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact. Then, “I wouldn’t have thought it of you! Really!”

“Why not?”

“Well…” Miss Luce looked away and he could see her face was turning red. “You don’t look the part,” she blurted nervously.

Gilbert slyly narrowed his eyes at her. “Would you believe me if I said I only look innocent?” he said.

Miss Luce looked at him for what seemed to be an eternity. Then, to his amusement, she laughed.

“No,” she admitted ruefully. “I can’t.”

They both laughed. Gilbert studied Miss Luce as she chuckled. He thought she was pretty. More than pretty, he thought, feeling the blush rising from his neck to his face.

“Are you okay?” she asked him, concern suddenly replacing the laughter.

“Yeah, why?”

“You’ve gone all pink!” She pressed the back of her hand against his neck. “Not feverish, are you?”

“Nah,” Gilbert assured her. He placed his hand over hers to remove it, but suddenly stopped. His gaze seemed to lock into hers. He rested his hand and closed it over hers. Mercifully, she didn’t pull her hand away.

“Gib?” Ahiya Graham’s voice called, breaking the moment. “Where are you? We’re starving!”

Gilbert glared sourly in the direction of the dining room. “I hate it when he does that!” he grumbled, feeling more than a little put out when Miss Luce withdrew her hand.

“We used to call him the ‘Romance Wrecker’ back in college,” she snickered. “Whenever Jake and Bettina wanted a moment to themselves, Graeme would suddenly show up and ruin the mood!”

“I think he’s trying to get back at me for all the times I ruined his moments with Ate Mardi!” Gilbert sighed. He got up and extended a hand to Miss Luce to help her up. “Thanks for helping me wake up, Miss Luce.”

“You’re welcome.” He was about to walk to the dining room, but she held him back. “Um, if…” She took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “If we’re going to be friends, you can drop the ‘Miss’ and just call me Luce.”

Gilbert felt his heart do somersaults when she said that. He squeezed her hand and beamed happily at her.

+++

“Luce, I’m going to throw a fit right now if you don’t give me the recipe for this pork!”

Dinner was a most enjoyable affair. Everyone raved about the pork dish Luce brought over and both Bettina and Mardi demanded the recipe. Bettina’s dimsum earned more than their fair share of compliments. Mardi made amazing side dishes and the menfolk knew they would hate themselves if they didn’t do her cooking justice. Yaya Bea’s ngohiong was, for that evening anyway, the last word as far as that particular dish was concerned.

“Save some space for dessert!” Bettina cajoled them all.

Ah, yes, dessert… When the dinner plates were cleared away, Yaya Bea entered the dining room with a tray set with a stack of smaller plates, a knife, a can of whipped cream, and a most toothsome-looking pie. Luce rose and took the tray, murmuring thanks and telling Yaya Bea to grab a seat.

Luce held up the can of whipped cream and raised a questioning eyebrow at everyone at the table. “You guys want me to splodge this on now, or do you want me to put this on individual slices?” she asked them.

“No cream for me!” Jake chuckled, patting his ample belly. “I think I’ve had enough.”

“More than enough!” Bettina teased her better half. “I think you and Gib were trying to take down the platter of ngohiong between yourselves! The rest of us only had one roll apiece!” She grinned up at Luce. “Bring on the cream, Luce!”

“What about you, Mrs. Kua?” Luce asked the old lady sitting beside her.

“Oh, you only live once, darling.” Her eyes sparkled with mirth. “Cream for me – and I hope you and your lovely sister can call me Gua ma like my little ones.” As an afterthought, she added, “Or Mama Sophia, if you’re not comfortable with Fookien.”

Luce smiled and set a generous slice before her, taking care to top it with a small mountain of whipped cream.

“Here you go, Gua ma,” she said. She turned to Ginger and Pixie who were staring at the pie with unabashed yearning. “Cream for you, piglets?”

“Yes, yes!” Pixie shrilled in delight.

“What do you say, Pixie?” Mardi gently admonished her daughter.

Meekly, Pixie lowered her head and said, “Yes, please, Tita Luce.”

“There’s a good girl,” Graham beamed. “But not too big a slice, Luce; her pediatrician wants her to trim down a little.”

“Me, too, ninang!” Ginger crowed. “Please?”

“No prob, kiddo.” Luce cut small, equally-sized portions for the children and added dollops of cream before handing them over.

“Aren’t you going to cut me a slice?” Gilbert protested, seeing how Luce was serving everyone before him.

“Wait your turn,” Luce rebuked him primly as she passed around plates to everyone from Graham to Yaya Bea. She put a plate with a rather thinnish slice on her place, then placed the pie plate before Gilbert. The plate was still about a quarter full. She held up the can of cream and asked rather archly, “Would you like cream on that, o man of the house?”

“Hey!” Graham protested. “What if I want a second slice?”

“Be nice, Graham,” Gua ma Sophia snapped at him between small bites of pie. “It’s Gilbert’s house and I believe Lusia meant the pie as a hostess gift for him. Am I not right, dear?”

“That pretty much sums it up, Gua ma,” Luce replied with a smile as she sat down.

Gilbert made a playful face at his older brother and forked up a large bite of pie. It was very good: rich, fudgy, not too sweet, and the cinnamon-spiced crust went perfectly with the creamy filling. He sighed rapturously as the pie melted in his mouth.

“Oh my goodness!” Bettina declared, her own small eyes widening in delighted surprise. She put down her fork and clapped her hands. “That was fabulous, Luce!”

“Not bad for a girl who didn’t learn how to bake till after college, ne?” Luce grinned mischievously and winked at her friend.

“You can’t be serious!” Gua ma Sophia exclaimed, surprised by this announcement. “But this seems like the work of a master patissier!”

“Thank you, Gua ma; you’re very kind.” Luce inclined her head modestly to the older woman. “But it’s true: I could cook, but baking was beyond me till after we were done with school.” She chuckled ruefully. “My grandmother was very put out with me for that, seeing how Gran was – and still is – the family’s reigning Queen of Desserts.”

“You should have seen our Gran’s face when Ate finally got her cinnamon roll recipe right,” Kitty chimed in between bites of pie. “Lucifer had nothing on her; she was just so proud!”

Gua ma Sophia studied their faces. Then, “Your grandmother?”

“Our maternal grandmother,” Luce nodded. Then, she grimaced. “We do not get on so well with our paternal one.”

“I just realized…” Gua ma raised an eyebrow at the Saavedra girls speculatively. “Your grandmother wouldn’t be Carmela Imatani, would she?”

The Saavedra girls stared at her, startled.

“Yes, she is,” Luce replied.

“I should have known – I should have guessed!” If she’d been jovial before, Gua ma now looked tickled pink with delight. “We were friends many, many years ago; still are, though I haven’t seen her in ages. How is the old dear?”

“Quite well,” Luce assured her. Sadly, she added that her grandmother now had to walk with a cane. “Gran says it’s what she gets for all those cakes she baked when she was younger – her knees are having a hard time supporting her weight.”

“Goodness! But she isn’t diabetic, is she?”

“No, Gua ma, it’s just her joints that are giving her grief.” Luce grinned. “Otherwise, she’s still the glampuss she’s always been.”

“You know Luce’s grandmother?” all three of the Huang siblings declared incredulously.

“We were girls in school together,” Gua ma remarked with a shrug. “Later on, Mela drew your grandfather and me into their social circle; her husband was a diplomat, you see. Thanks to the Imatanis, your grandfather was able to accumulate business contacts.”

“What a small world!” Graham murmured.

“She was a magnificent beauty,” Gua ma went on. She nodded towards Luce. “She looked very much like Lusia here when we were younger.” She narrowed her eyes slyly at her. “I hope this means that she’ll age quite gracefully in the years to come.”

Lusia blushed and lowered her face. Gilbert looked her way and smiled.

+++

“Aw, hello, foldie!”

After dinner, Gilbert ushered everyone back to the living room for an evening of music. Kitty Saavedra had not said much during the meal, but she was thoroughly enjoying herself. The Huangs and their feisty grandmother who arrived so suddenly were very interesting people. Plus, Gilbert had such an amusing-looking cat. Kitty carefully removed the snoozing feline from an armchair before she sat down. The cat simply stared up at her, then went back to sleep in her lap.

“What’s her name?” she asked Gilbert.

“Oh, that’s Yi-Che,” he replied, smiling. “It means ‘pearl’. I gave her the name because her head looks like one. You know: ears folded close and all that.” He turned to Kitty’s Ate Luce. “Do you keep a cat?”

“He was snoozing when you were at the house Friday night,” Luce replied with a dimpled smile. “His name’s Bartholomew and he’s a Scottish Shorthair. It’s a breed related to the Scottish Fold.”

“Oh.”

“He’s a Garfield cat,” Kitty chimed in. “Big, fat, and orange.” As an afterthought, she added that Bartholomew wasn’t as lazy as the comic strip feline. “He’s a very good mouser.”

Everyone had settled in. Mama Sophia sat across from Kitty in another armchair; Pixie was perched on one arm and Ginger was snuggled comfortably in their great-grandmother’s lap. Kuya Graham, Ate Mardi, Ate Bettina, and Kuya Jake were all on the sofa. The babies were in their mothers’ arms. Gilbert and Ate Luce were sitting on the floor beside the baby grand piano, rifling through a small wooden chest where the musical pieces were kept.

“You play Gershwin?” Ate Luce asked.

“Our parents loved the standards,” Gilbert replied.

“You sing?” Kitty sat up when she heard the amusement in her sister’s voice.

“A bit,” Gilbert replied. He got up and sat on the piano bench, opening the keyboard lid in the process. He warmed up with a few scales, then grinned at Ate Luce. Gilbert began with a rippling cascade of notes, and proceeded to sing:

There’s a somebody I’m longing to see
I hope that she turns out to be
Someone to watch over me.

I’m a little lamb who’s lost in the wood;
I know I could always be good
To one who’ll watch over me.

Kitty noted the look on her sister’s face. She was shocked; obviously, she was not expecting their host to sing in such a warm tenor or in a manner that rivaled most balladeers’.

Though I may not be the man
Some girls think of as handsome
To my heart she’ll carry the key.

“Who told him he wasn’t handsome?” Mama Sophia demanded sotto voce of Ate Bettina.

Won’t you tell her please to put on some speed?
Follow my lead, oh how I need
Someone to watch over me.

“That was lovely,” Ate Luce murmured admiringly.

“Thank you,” Gilbert replied without turning.

It was at that point that Mama Sophia caught Kitty’s eye and, quite deliberately, winked.

+++

Meanwhile, far off in Tokyo, another young man was busy singing. Not for pleasure, alas, as Gilbert Huang was currently doing in Manila; this young man sang for a living. Unfortunately, he wasn’t doing so well at the moment.

As if hitting the wrong notes wasn’t bad enough, his pet Chihuahua kept howling along with him.

“That does it!” Shinichi fumed, slamming down the lid of his piano. He grabbed little Koyuki off the floor and dealt with him with the business end of his house slippers. His bandmates were horrified by this sudden act of violence on the tiny white dog.

“Shinichi!” YuYa shrieked at him, quickly grabbing Koyuki from his irate master’s clutches. “How could you?” he demanded, gently rubbing down the frightened dog. “He hasn’t done anything wrong!”

“What the hell do you mean he hasn’t done anything wrong?” Shinichi roared at him. “He howled, damn it! He howled every time I hit a wrong note!”

“That doesn’t mean you should spank the dog!” YuYa shot back hotly. “Gods, Shinichi! You’re so damned full of yourself!”

“What’s eating you, man?” Shura asked worriedly. “You’ve been more than a little antsy of late.”

“’Antsy’?” YuYa snorted derisively at the idea. “More like he’s been pissed ever since we found out Luce had a crush on the Huangs’ kid brother.”

Shura stared at Shinichi in disbelief. The whole room fell silent and every eye was suddenly on the raging vocalist.

He was about to say something, but YuYa beat him to it.

“I don’t think you’re jealous, Shinichi,” YuYa said bluntly. “You and Luce are pals, but you’ve never thought of her as a woman.”

“More like one of the boys,” Ranmaru remarked to no one in particular.

“You just don’t want her to be happy,” YuYa continued smugly, cradling little Koyuki in his arms. “I mean, you think that if you’re miserable, nobody else has the right to be happy.”

Shinichi gaped at him incredulously as he made his way out of the room.

“Just one thing,” YuYa declared as he stood in the doorway. He shook a warning finger at Shinichi. “I sincerely hope you’re man enough to face the consequences if you get in her way.” With that, he and Koyuki flounced out of the studio.

+++

As with all my other writing projects, you probably know the drill already. Did you like this chapter? If you did, please feel free to write your comments at the end of this post. Plus, if you want to get more updates regarding No Need for Normalcy or any of my other writing projects, drop me a line at midge.manlapig@gmail.com.