Loving you like Drizzle

I make scrambled eggs now

May 13, 2018

Imagine this: It is 6 in the morning on a Sunday, you stir in your bed still with your eyes closed. You could feel the sun glaring softly towards your room and it feels warm against your skin. You could almost see the morning dew beautifully clinging on your Mother's garden. You feel the comfort of your bed and the idea of extending your sleep was probably the best thing to do right now. But as your hand carefully caresses the bed sheets, you felt fingers meeting yours.

In surprise, you open your eyes and you were greeted with a pair of pretty brown eyes. You see genuine kindness in it that it almost feels like a dream. A dream that you are currently holding between your fingers.

She smiles directly at you, and you could've questioned her existence in your room but you didn't because you didn't want her to think like you're complaining.

You are nothing close to complaining because there is no better surprise than seeing her first thing in the morning. So you smiled instead, closed your eyes and relaxed to her touch.

You could almost feel it, you could almost feel the butterflies in your stomach flutter their way out of your ears and expose everything you feel. You look at her again and you see a glint of love coming from her eyes. The kind of love you have craved and prayed for but you knew it yourself that it was too ridiculous to think about so you stop imagining things.

Instead, you thought of it this way. It is 6 in the morning on a Sunday, the sun is shining in your room and the garden is as beautiful as it has always been from your mother's care. You bed feels extra comfortable and you move your fingers to caress it and it falls at her hands. You open your eyes and you still catch her pretty eyes staring at you. You see something in her eyes that you quickly brushed off, instead you saw a good friend innocently admiring you sleep like it was nothing you should dwell about.

"Good morning." Bea let out a small laugh and covered her mouth before greeting her back. She raised her eyebrow at Bea so she moved her hand away and greeted her again.

"Good morning. Kumain ka na ba?"

She shakes her head and she pouts at Bea as she hears her stomach grumble. She let out another laugh as she stood up to leave your bed. Took a quick visit to her bathroom and offered her hand towards her visitor.

"Come, kain na tayo Jho."

"Tulog pa ata silang lahat."

"Okay. Then, I'll cook for you. Tara."

Bea pulled her out of the bed and followed with ease.

"Marunong ka ba magluto? Kelan lang?" Jho teased her by poking her cheeks as they went down the stairs side by side.

"You are adorably annoying at this time of the day." She complained as she gently took hold of Jhoana's wrist to stop her from poking. "And how hard could eggs be?"

"Hm.. We'll see."

...

"Akala ko ba ikaw magluluto? So bakit ako ang nandito sa kusina at nandyan ka kasama si George?"

"Mahirap pala magluto ng itlog, atsaka, diba ikaw naman ang gutom? Kaya ikaw nalang magluto."

"Tsk tsk. Hindi ka pa pang-wife material."

"Ha?" Bea abruptly stopped rubbing George's ears causing the corgi's dismay. He left Bea on the floor without notice and settled under the dining table.

"Wife material. Dapat marunong kang magluto para pwede ka na maging someone's partner in life. Example, gutom ako pero ni hindi mo ko kayang paglutuan."

Bea stood up and made her way toward Jho, she stood beside her staring at each other's eyes.

"So I'm not being a good wife material to you?"

"Hm-mm." Jho agreed and handed the egg and spatula to Bea. "Ipagluto mo na ko. Please!"

"Uh.. okay." She scratched her head but still took the spatula and egg off Jhoana's hands.

She looked so clueless that it made Jhoana chuckle. "Tutulungan kita. Itlog lang yan Bei, how hard could it be, diba?"

She could feel her teasing her but she ignored it. Living for more than two decades in this world, this is the only time she was willing to learn how to cook eggs for anyone. She didn't want Jho to die of hunger.

Nothing has changed really. We were still the good old bestfriends that we have always been. We would still spend the whole day watching sappy filipino movies, she would still cry her heart out and I would still provide the tissues for her as I laugh at her for being so adorably soft toward this things.

We would still spend the whole afternoon on the garden with George getting belly rubs with our foot. She would still animatedly talk about her and her little sister's fight the other day. I may have heard about it before but I would still listen and watch her because I adore her stories more than any novels I have ever read.

You spend another hour staring silently at her, listening at her words, watching her mouth move with grace, and know that even if things may have still stayed the same, it is entirely different now.

Because her eyes didn't flutter in slow motion, and her voice never sounded this sweet. Her fingers were never this soft against yours and your heart didn't beat like you're falling off a roller coaster. You don't easily turn beet red with just a smile, and your stomach used to be as calm as the sea. You were never a morning person and you never wanted to be wife material.

But now you do. And now you know, things are starting to change.

-

"You drew butterflies all over it."

"Huh, I did. Didn't I?"

"Maybe the butterflies did fly out of your ears. But you trapped them in here." Jho pointed at the notebook.

"Mabuti naman at nahuli ko pa."

"Is it really a good thing, Bei?"

Bea didn't answer. She used to think it was a good thing. It was good that she was this good at keeping secrets but now, she can't help but wonder of what if...

What if she wasn't THAT good. What then? Will she be able to read her writings as calmly as does right now? Or the thought of no deadlines will drive her crazy over night?

She doesn't know. She'll never know.

"You're a good at cooking now though."

"Yeah, I make scrambled eggs now. Are you proud of me?"

She teased, a full on smile plastered on her cheeks.

"I have always been, Beatriz."

Silence.

"I don't think I could do this any longer Jho.. I don't want to take you away from your wedding.."

She felt Jhoana's fingers wrap against hers. "Bei, imagine this: We are locked inside your own bedroom, lying on the comfort of your bed. We just finished a sappy filipino movie we have both watched a million times already. We could stay up late because tomorrow is a Sunday. We don't get to worry because we know George is still going to be there, he'll wait for us to rub his ears or his belly. We'll cook dozens of eggs, talk about a lot of things. And instead of picking a notebook and a pen when I'm busy, you'll take my hand and tell me everything firsthand. Imagine being brave." She pleaded.

Bea could see it in her eyes, and this time she didn't brush it off. And she did, she did imagine to be brave. She imagined her room and the dvd playing on the TV. She imagined George running towards her. Imagined the eggs, the spatula and the thousand times she failed cracking those eggs in a pan.

She turned a page, tried to imagine that she told Jho everything firsthand.

She looks around the room as she turns another page.

This room doesn't look like anything like her own but she reads them anyway. Because she'll do anything Jho says.

She just wanted to be wife-material.