It was amazing how many times I had to hear that very same advice before I actually took it. Nettie Bishop had said something similar to me a few months ago, back when Adeena and I were feuding. I cared about Amir. Bernadette was family. I’d managed to fix things with Jae, so I knew I could do it. Time to begin the Lila Macapagal Apology Tour.
Pushing down my anxiety about what I was going to do, I pulled out my phone. I had some calls to make.
Chapter Eighteen
What’s this all about, Lila?” Lola Flor settled into her usual place, exerting enough authority that it was obvious she sat at the head of the table, even though the table was round and that should’ve been impossible. Ordinarily, she and the aunties would’ve made a big fuss over my hair since they loved commenting on my appearance, but this was no ordinary dinner. Lola Flor surveyed the food my aunt was bringing out, a wicked smile spreading across her face as she took in Ninang June’s reaction to the spread—Lola Flor had purposely chosen Ninang June’s least favorite dishes for this meal.
Lola Flor may not have gotten along with my mother, but my mom was still a member of the Macapagals, and the woman could hold a grudge when you messed with her family. If avoidance was my Olympic event, pettiness was Lola Flor’s. The purpose of this meal was a reconciliation, but I couldn’t help but admire this pro-level shade disguised as hospitality. My grandmother and I were both Scorpios, and game couldn’t help but recognize game.
I tried to arrange my expression to a more neutral one because this wasn’t going to work if Ninang June and Bernadette saw how much I was enjoying this. “Our last dinner didn’t end well, and I think we need to have it out so we can focus on what’s important: helping Ate Bernie and keeping the pageant girls safe.”
Ninang June sniffed, eyeing the platter Joy had just set in front of her. A stir-fry of shrimp and ampalaya. Next to that was a plate of tortang talong, or eggplant omelet. Bitter gourd and eggplant were her most hated foods, and to cap it all off, Tita Rosie proudly set down a plate of chicken adobo with liver. She rarely served this dish since it wasn’t popular with the general public, but it was one of her absolute favorites. It was rich, tasty, and relatively healthy due to all the iron and vitamins it provided. Unfortunately, Ninang June didn’t like liver either, and while Tita Rosie might not have realized what Lola Flor was doing when she requested these dishes, Ninang June definitely did.
“If this is your idea of an apology, I don’t accept. It’s bad enough that you insult my daughter, but now you try to serve me this? This slap in the face?” Ninang June shoved her plate away.
Tita Rosie’s face crumbled. “What’s wrong, June? I wanted us to all be OK again, so I took extra care when preparing the food. What did I . . .” Her voice trailed off as she took stock of the dishes and realized what her mother had done. “Nay! How could you!” My aunt turned to my godmother. “We have other food prepared in the kitchen. I’ll get you something else to eat, something you like.”
“Rosie, sit down. This woman insulted us in our home and now she’s insulting us in our restaurant. If she wants to apologize for the disrespect she’s shown to all of us, she will eat the food she’s given. It’s poor manners to turn down the food your host has prepared.” Lola Flor turned to Bernadette. “You. Say grace.”
Bernadette started, glancing guiltily at her mother before crossing herself and leading us in a brief prayer. After we all said, “Amen,” we helped ourselves to the food in the middle of the table. First my grandmother, then Ninang Mae and April, then finally me and Joy. Tita Rosie always served herself last, so she looked at Ninang June and Bernadette in anxious anticipation.
Bernadette took a deep breath and helped herself to large portions of all the different foods—from what I remembered, she actually liked these dishes, so she probably didn’t want to drag on a fight that her mother had started. Besides, for all her faults, she would never purposely hurt Tita Rosie and she knew that if she refused to eat, it would break Tita Rosie’s heart. She scooped up a large spoonful of omelet and rice, and after she chewed and swallowed, she turned a big smile toward my aunt. “This is delicious, Tita Rosie! Thank you for this meal.”
Bernadette nudged her mother, who still hadn’t served herself any food. Ninang June sighed and spooned small portions of everything alongside a heaping plate of rice. She separated the pieces of liver from the chicken, brought the spoon slowly to her mouth, and chewed hesitantly. Once she swallowed, she admitted, “This tastes better than I remember. Thank you for your hospitality, Rosie. And . . . I’m sorry.”