Blank Pages

Six

AN: Sunday update, as promised. Thank you so much to everyone who patiently waited and commented/tweeted me saying they were excited for this next chapter. Your encouragement means so much to me. For Kish @quiche_ph and BB @BARAKOsaBARKO—thank you for your insights on male friendship, very enlightening hahaha. Hope you guys enjoy this. I would love to know what you think, so please feel free to tweet me @silent_shipper 😊

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"Wow, so kinuwento mo sa kanya yung tungkol kay Tricia? Dang, son. That must've been hard?"

It's Sunday night and Richard is having dinner over at Mark's house. He never passes up an invitation to eat there because Tere, Mark's wife, is an excellent cook, and makes the most delicious creamy chicken pastel in the world. She's busy in the kitchen as the two men are hanging out in the living room, each holding a bottle of San Mig Light, and Richards feels his tummy rumble as various mouth-watering smells come wafting out towards them.

He scratches his five o'clock shadow and purses his lips thoughtfully. "Alam mo, akala ko nga mahihirapan ako magkwento, pero hindi. Ang gaan niya lang kausap, dude. Really easy to talk to. Sobrang chill lang, nakikinig...and she's really cool, man. She's got great taste in music and movies. Actually, I think you guys would get along. She's a big David Fincher fan, just like you. And she listens to Foo Fighters and Incubus."

Mark chuckles and shakes his head in amusement. "Dang, son," he says again. "Mukhang tinamaan ka na yata ah."

"Sinong tinamaan?" A feminine voice asks from the doorway leading into the kitchen. Tere appears, her own bottle of beer in hand, looking fresh and pretty in a sundress despite having just slaved away in a hot kitchen for the past half hour. She wanders over to where the men are sitting, and perches lightly on the arm of Mark's enormous recliner. "Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes, boys. Pero sinong tinamaan, at kanino siya nadali?"

Mark slips an arm around his wife's tiny waist. "Etong si Faulkerson. Our boy's a smitten kitten, mahal."

Tere laughs—a sweet, pleasant sound that curiously conjures an image in Richard's head of a sparkling, bubbling brook, trickling gently through a picturesque Japanese garden. "Ooh, do tell. Who's the lucky lady?"

Richard blushes furiously as Mark animatedly brings her up to speed, embellishing the story here and there in typical Mark fashion. Husband and wife both laugh as he repeats Richard's last few comments in a silly, high-pitched voice, sounding uncannily like a giddy schoolgirl raving about her crush. Richard picks up a throw pillow and hurls it at Mark's head.

"Gago ka, I didn't say it like that."

Tere claps her hands gleefully and squeals. "Oh my God, Faulkerson. You are a smitten kitten. Look at that face, I didn't know a person could get so red."

"Tere naman eh," Richard implores, running a hand through his hair in sheepish agitation.

She giggles. "Eto naman, hindi ka na mabiro. You know I'm just happy for you, that you met someone new. I was hoping you would when you moved back here. You need this."

"That's exactly what I told him, mahal."

"We care about you, hun. You deserve to be happy. This time with someone who actually deserves you."

Richard shifts in his seat uneasily. "I think you guys are getting ahead of yourselves, though. I mean, don't you think it's too soon?"

Mark snorts in digust and heaves the throw pillow back at him. "Too soon, too schmoon. You're a grown-ass man, dude, not a pabebe girl. Tama lang naman. I think you've suffered enough and it's about time you moved on."