CHAPTER 23: MY MOTHER LOVES ME
THE GIRL WHO CAN’T DATE
By Eleventh
CHAPTER 23: MY MOTHER LOVES ME
“I can’t remember how it felt, but I like to believe that I was loved." – Ira P.
2017 JOURNAL
“Ooooh! Goodie! There are a lot of buffalo wings!” Ira exclaimed with clapping hands as Laura carefully set the chicken wings on the table.
“Well, Skye specified the buffalo wings to be extra for the first set.”
“Nice! Thank you, Laura!” Ira replied with a sweet smile.
“You’re welcome. Enjoy your food, kids!”
Laura went back to the counter. Meanwhile, Ira stared at the fried chicken like it was the most wonderful thing in the world. She licked her lips as her fingers tingled to grab a piece.
“Start eating already!” Skye muttered as he watches her enjoyably.
Ira took one piece of chicken of each flavor except for the Buffalo wings and placed it on her table. She started with the classic flavor, then to the parmesan, and the barbecue. Skye noticed that she didn’t get any piece of the buffalo and furrowed his forehead.
“Why are you not eating the buffalo flavor?”
“Oh, I will! Later! That’s my favorite. I’m saving the best for last. I’ll just finish the ordinary ones first. I didn’t know you like buffalo wings too.” Ira chitchat while munching on the chicken wings.
“No, I don’t. I can’t eat it. My tongue has a low tolerance for spicy food.” He explained while licking the parmesan cheese on his fingers.
Ira paused to process what he just said and stared at him with crinkled eyebrows while holding some chicken bones.
[This dude is weird. He ordered a lot of buffalo wings when he can’t even eat them. Or maybe Laura misheard him.]
Ira just shrugged her shoulders and continued eating.
Minutes later, they finished the first set and asked for another set with parmesan cheese-flavored and buffalo wings only.
“Do you love fried chicken that much?” Skye asked, noticing that her bucket was almost filled with chicken bones.
She nodded while licking the spicy sauce in her fingers.
He chuckled. “I could tell.”
Wiping her fingers with a tissue, Ira began to ask questions while waiting for Skye to finish his food. He was a slow eater.
“How is your mother like?”
Skye raised up his head, surprised by her random question. He did not answer quickly not until he consumed the last chicken. Seeing how she waited for his response, he answered her after wiping the sauce on his mouth.
“She’s kind and gentle.”
“What else?”
“She’s carefree.”
“Mmm… what else?”
Earnest to know more, she placed her arms on the table to listen to the young man who was quite unsure about disclosing anything about him.
“What is it that you exactly want to know, Pardilla?” Skye, back to his obnoxious manner, washed his hands with alcohol while looking at Ira with impassive eyes.
Extending her arms to ask for some alcohol, she replied, “Can your mom tell you and your twin apart?”
“Of course she can. She’s our mother.” He replied with confidence as he poured some alcohol on Ira’s hands. “My brother and I are two poles apart. You might think he’s kind and friendly but he’s actually a mischievous rascal who does a lot of crazy things and blame it on me.”
“No way!” she gasped in disbelief.
“Yes, way! When we were in grade school, my mom often gets called to the guidance office because of a report against me like," he paused to recall an incident, biting his lower lip making him damn seductive. “… like peeping some girl’s panty?”
Ira gasped and sneered.
“You did that???”
“Oof! Of course, I didn’t! I would never do that. But my brother did and he pretended he was me.”
“And people believed him?”
“Unfortunately, yes! But my mother didn’t. She knew it wasn’t me. She knew what my twin is capable of. But she was there, sitting in front of the counselor, listening, and nodding. I really thought she believed him. But when we got home, she reassured me that she believes it wasn’t me. The fact that she could tell me apart from Claude, I know then that my mother loves me.”
Ira smiled. “Your mom is wonderful.”
“She is.”
Their seemingly in-depth conversation was then interfered with by Laura’s appearance bringing with her a jug of water. While Skye chitchat with the waitress, Ira looked at the window, and her thoughts wandered once more. The smile she beamed at Skye earlier faded and was replaced with a poignant pout.
[What kind of mother is she who can’t recognize her own child?]
AT PARDILLA’S RESIDENCE
It has been a long day for Ira that she was all worn out. Talking to a number of people, listening to their stories, having to entertain their concerns and complaints, and explaining and advising exhausted her. Having to attend an event in her own home had made her feel heavier.
Hearing the boisterous laughter from the living room as she entered the gate, she assumed her mother’s siblings must have come from the province to commemorate her mother’s death. At this very moment, they must have been sharing their favorite memory of her, how thoughtful as a sister she was, how sweet as a wife she was, or how caring as a mother she was. Memories she can’t relate to.
She slowly walked through the patio. As she held the door, she closed her eyes and breathed in. When she opened the door, her father whose eyes seemingly close when he smiles, greeted her warmly.
“Pops!”
“Hey, there little one! You must be tired and hungry.”
Staring at her father’s warm greeting, Ira surrendered leaning her head on her father’s chest and whined.
“Hnnng! Yes, I am!!!”
“There! There!” Mageneo embraced his only daughter and tapped her back. “I’m pretty sure you did a great job at work today.”
Ira sniffed. “A lot of mothers came and only a few fathers represented their children today. And those few fathers reminded me of you.”
Mageneo smiled as he looked at his daughter’s face.
“You don’t wanna say hi to your uncles and aunties, do you?” Ira firmly shook her head with a pout on her lips. “Alright! Let’s go through the backdoor so they won’t see you!”
Mageneo took some of Ira’s stuff and led the way through the backdoor. When she found the table full of food, Ira was energized, more thrilled to see a mountain of Buffalo chicken wings. She immediately sat on a chair and grabbed a plate filling it with chicken legs and wings. Then she started eating them like there's no tomorrow.
“That’s your mother’s recipe.”
Ira froze and looked up to Mageneo who sat across her.
“What did you just say?”
“That's your mother's special recipe, your favorite. Don’t you remember? You love fried chicken so much because of your mother’s cooking. Whenever you ask her to cook for you, oh how she would rush to the market and hoard for chicken wings.”
Then a sudden memory flashed before her eyes, an amiable face of a woman beaming before her, placing a plate of fried chicken on the table while she waits patiently and excitedly.
She remembered her say, “Does it taste good?”
“Yes, Mama! It’s the best chicken in the world.” she would answer.
“I’m happy that you like it.”
As she munched on that spicy chicken leg, tears began to flow on her cheeks. She wanted to make it stop but she can’t help but cry. She was happy. She was definitely happy for that simple memory.
“Tss. Is the chicken that good?” Mageneo chuckled.
“Yes! It’s the best chicken in the world.” She answered crying.
Then both of them started laughing.
PRESENT
Photographs are recollections of beautiful moments captured by the lens. Raine has been staring at the photos on the wall of the Pardilla house while eating a plate of cake. She was amused by the teenaged looks of her mom and her uncles, their funny haircuts, their odd fashion, and even their wacky poses. At the same time, she wondered too.
“You’ve been looking at the wall for quite too long. Are you that amused?” Ira uttered, standing beside her daughter.
“I occasionally visit Grand Pop’s house and I realized I never took a moment of staring at the photos on the wall. What’s up with your hair? You look like the grudge here.” Raine remarked, laughing at Ira’s high school photo. Her hair was very long, loose on her shoulders, and uncombed.
“Yeah. My classmates used to call me by that name hahaha. I don’t really comb my hair when I was a teenager. Plus I don’t talk to them so I kinda give off some ghost vibes.”
“Wow! Uncle Ares and Uncle Eros are legit achievers. Look at those medals!”
“Agree! They’re the smartest in this family.”
Looking more closely at the photos, Raine was sure that one person was missing on the photo wall and she can’t help ask Ira about it.
“How come you don’t have a photo of grandma, Mom?”
Ira pressed her lips to smile. “Because back at her time when she was still alive, she and Pops are not into photographs yet.”
“Actually, she has. I kept her photos in a box.” Mageneo joined the conversation.
“Really, Pops? Can I see them?” Ira asked interestingly.
“I think I hid it in your room. Somewhere in your cabinet?” he answered.
“Okay, I’ll check! Wanna come with me to my room?” Ira asked her daughter.
When Raine heard the word room, she suddenly felt a mini panic attack. She searched for Usher, with uneasiness on her face, and found him in the kitchen talking with Seah.
“You go ahead, Mom. I’ll be there in a minute. I’ll just put my plate in the sink!”
Raine rushed to the kitchen and grabbed her uncle by the arm, excusing him from the people at the table.
“What is the matter with you?” Usher whispered.
“Emergency!” Raine fret.
“What emergency?”
“Mom just went into her room. What if she notices that her journals are gone?”
“Oh sh—weren’t you supposed to return it in a week?” Usher echoed frustration in his tone.
“I’m not done reading yet.”
“We’re both dead, Raine! We’re both dead!”
“What do we do now?”
The niggling two were quiet for a few seconds, thinking of a solution when they heard Ira yelled from her room.
“Pops? Have you seen a box of notebooks here?”
The two gulped and looked at one another, their eyes conversing.
“No! I didn’t!” Mageneo yelled back from the kitchen. “Maybe you placed it in the stockroom! Remember years ago? You cleaned up your room before moving out!”
“Okay! I’ll come back here tomorrow and check.”
“Got it!!!”
Usher pulled his niece at the corner and whispered.
“This is our chance to save ourselves. You have to be here early in the morning before she comes. And make sure you put the box in the stockroom. Do you understand?”
“But Uncle, I am not done yet. The story is getting interesting and…”
Usher pulled his hair in frustration. “Argh! STOP! STOP! STOP! Don’t be stubborn, Raine! Please! I don’t want to get in trouble with Ira. So return all the journals at once. Finished or not finished!”
Raine stubbornly talked her way to her uncle but he was adamant that Ira’s journals must be returned. He then deserted his niece to finish their conversation which left Raine to follow her mom to her room.
When she got there, she caught her mom being sentimental on her bed while holding a stack of old photos. They were all faded with few stains on the sides. Raine sat at the foot of her bed too and looked at the photo which Ira had been staring for so long. She was astonished to see the photograph of a lovely woman smiling brightly next to a handsome young man.
“Is that her? She looks very much like Uncle Ares, Mom!”
Ira sniggered. “True! I didn’t know these photos exist.”
Checking the other photos, Ira noticed a photograph of her mom carrying a toddler with a yellow headband.
“That must be you, Mom!”
“I think so.”
Ira smiled brightly as she stared at that photo. When she flipped it, a handwritten message was scribbled saying, “My dear Ira Bear! I love you no matter what.”