rebecca May 6, 2009
Posted by banne in bedtime stories.add a comment
came across something that i wrote a long time ago. as usual, i lost interest and stopped working at it. don’t even know what the story is all about. i read this again today and just thought it’s not such a bad start 
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“you’re here.”
it was the first time in a long time that he saw her again. he had said the words softly, carefully, afraid that he would scare her off with anything louder than a whisper. at the back of his mind, he was thinking how strange it was that he didn’t want to scare her when it was he who should have bolted out the door the minute he saw her.
“you’re here.” he said again. she smiled and was silent.
he tried to recall the last time he saw her like this, sitting primly on his stained sofa with a half-smile on her face. then he realized that rebecca never sat primly. she would sit with her legs crossed beneath her. or with her feet propped on the table. but she never sat like she was doing now, holding her hands on her lap and looking at him with…amusement? fondness?
he couldn’t recall the last time she was amused of him either.
or fond.
three: it was carlo’s turn… November 15, 2008
Posted by banne in confessions of a trophy wife.1 comment so far
three: it was carlo’s turn…
it was carlo’s turn to choose the restaurant this year and he picked a shared favorite: alonza’s at the far end of the business district. italian cooking was high on our list, right up there with russian writers and irish musicians. i always thought it would be too cool to have our babies born in each of those countries. but that would never happen now.
i navigated carefully through the late afternoon traffic, slowing down at intersections and checking the rearview before switching lanes. i don’t like to drive myself around but the car was carlo’s birthday gift and he insists that i use it. he offered to teach me how to drive but quit the job after one day. he didn’t have the patience for it. “you just don’t pick up fast enough hon” he said. he promised to enroll me in a class but didn’t have time to do that either. in the end, i asked my sister to be my instructor.
it’s funny when people tell us how lucky we are to be so well-off. everytime they do this, carlo and i just roll our eyes at each other and smile. my husband is part-owner of a furniture business that took off three years ago. i work as the manger of a busy restaurant. between the two of us, we could afford summer vacations abroad, steep investment plans, and the occassional expensive gifts. my mother used to always tell me to “look for someone rich, anak, because even if money can’t buy happiness..it can darn well buy just about everything else!” needless to say, she adores carlo and gives him sole credit for our charmed lifestyle. my mother thinks of my job at the restaurant as more of a hobby than a career. the truth is, i really don’t have to work. i could easily spend my days at my sister’s house taking care of my nephews. or go back to school and take up something like art. but i love my job. i’m great at it.
could you ever hate something you’re really good at?
two: it’s good to look back at the beginning… October 28, 2008
Posted by banne in confessions of a trophy wife.add a comment
two: it’s good to look back at the beginning…
it’s good to look back at the beginning, at how far you have gone as you mark each passing year of marriage. and today seems like an appropriate day for these kind of recollections. after all, that’s what anniversaries are for, don’t you think? to celebrate the past with gratitude and look forward to the future with hope and love and all that jazz. so i put on my lipstick, dab his favorite perfume behind my ears, and slither into this slinky black outfit bought especially for the occasion. looking at the mirror, i smile a wide smile and nod in satisfaction. it pleases me to find out that after all these years, i could still smile in approval at my reflection. and i know carlo will smile too when he sees me. he could be so predictable that way.
has it really been seven years? i still remember a time when carlo wasn’t this predictable, when he was still a man of a million surprises. we were married nine days before i knew he was allergic to fabric softener. eight months before i knew he could speak waray and chavacano. four years before i knew he was adopted. well actually, we both found out at the same time. i remember holding him the night his mother had told him. he didn’t cry. he didn’t want to talk. he just wanted me to rock him until he fell asleep. the next day we took a drive and he turned to me and said it was strange that he wasn’t bothered.
“not in the least” he said. “like i knew all along. or maybe it’s because i’m older.” he shrugged and got faraway look in his eyes. “maybe i just don’t care”.
“are you angry?” i asked him.
he blew out his breath in a sigh “not angry, just…disoriented. like not being born. having no birth. no history. not belonging anywhere, with anyone”
but you’re wrong, i wanted to tell him. you belong with me, remember?
but i didn’t say anything.
one: his name is carlo October 27, 2008
Posted by banne in confessions of a trophy wife.3 comments
one: his name is carlo
his name is carlo and we met in college when i was a junior. he was two years older but i have always been partial to smart men with trim, athletic figures. he liked girls with high GPA’s that match their long legs. an active brain to go with an active social life, was what he said. we’ve been together for three years before he asked me to be his wife. and another two years before we got married.
people say it was the most beautiful little wedding they have never been to. it was his suggestion to get married in japan and i loved it. we both didn’t want a big wedding and it seemed like the perfect excuse not to invite anybody, not even our parents. one crisp winter morning exactly seven years ago i slowly walked between rows of ume trees, my frozen fingers clutching a bunch of flowers picked from the same garden. he stood between the filipino priest and a belgian tourist who offered to hold the camera. just as the priest declared us man and wife, the blossoms whipped themselves up around us in a frenzied white storm as if shaken from the branches by some invisible hand. carlo and i were laughing and crying at the same time.
it’s true. you could see it all on the video tape.
(to be continued..)
confessions of a trophy wife April 25, 2008
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let’s get this straight. i don’t hate the stereotype. i even think it’s adorable really, the way people quickly delegate me to a category because they think they know everything. sometimes their ignorance is just plain cute.
but don’t get me wrong. there are other times when some people do get it right, they do get to know everything in those singular moments of uncanny clarity when you feel them staring straight into your soul. it’s a good thing this rarely ever happens though, because it scares the crap out of me. and i’m not the type to scare easily. being afraid only means not knowing enough. and i’m the kind of woman who makes sure she knows everything. my husband should know, i picked up that habit from him.
and it’s about time you knew everything too.
(to be continued…)
dst March 13, 2008
Posted by banne in bedtime stories.add a comment
the hours do not mean
what they used to mean
here in this planet
where the sun suspends its setting
the hours do not say
where my shadow must fall
but the sand in the glass
fall steadily
and the snow lingers
(anyway)
where you sleep
the clock does not forget
but how do you love me
on daylight saving time?
