Counterpoint

Chapter Three

The sun had barely risen when the roosters started crowing from the neighboring yards. It wasn’t the birds that woke Brianna, though, it was the knock on her door.

“Ma’am Brianna,” came Maria’s voice from the hallway. “Time to get up. Your breakfast is ready.”

Brianna groaned and rolled over, burying her face in the soft pillow. She had barely slept. The electric fan whirred at full speed above her, but the humidity still clung to her skin like a second blanket.

“Five more minutes,” she muttered.

Maria knocked again, more gently this time. “Your father said you have to come down. He and your mom are leaving for a meeting at the Saavedra estate.”

That got her attention. Brianna sat up, brushing her hair from her face. Her parents had been busy with business meetings since she arrived, leaving her to wander the ancestral house like a restless tourist. They rarely involved her in anything. She was there to “visit home,” but no one had really asked what that meant for her.

She dressed quickly, choosing something light and expensive-looking, and headed downstairs.

The breakfast table in the lanai was set, shaded by wide overhanging eaves. Maria had laid out garlic fried rice, longganisa from the public market, eggs, and mangoes sliced with perfect precision.

Brianna eyed the food, already sweating. “Does everything here have garlic?”

Maria smiled, used to the complaints. “That’s how it’s always been. You’re back in Ilocos now.”

Brianna poured herself a glass of water. “That’s the problem.”

Maria, patient as ever, didn’t respond. She simply placed a plate in front of her and returned to the kitchen.

After a few reluctant bites and a check-in with her phone, no new messages from Toby, Brianna found herself with nothing to do. Her parents had left with their convoy of black SUVs, off to the Saavedra estate for whatever business arrangements they were finalizing. Vigan, with its sleepy streets and old-world charm, felt like a cage made of cobblestones and Spanish tiles.

An hour later, she was back at the milk tea shop.

She told herself it was because she needed decent air conditioning. But deep down, she knew it wasn’t about the tea.

Jenny was behind the counter again, her hair pulled back, moving easily between the tables with a calmness that Brianna could not understand.

This time, Jenny noticed her right away and smiled without waving. Brianna appreciated that, waving was too familiar.

“You’re back,” Jenny said as Brianna approached the counter.

“The electricity kept cutting out at the house,” Brianna replied with a shrug. “It was either come here or melt.”

“Well, lucky us,” Jenny said lightly, already reaching for a cup. “Same order?”

Brianna gave a small nod and turned to sit in her usual spot. The same corner table. She opened her phone again but scrolled aimlessly. The Wi-Fi was slow, and social media felt far away from here.

A few minutes later, Jenny brought over her drink and sat across from her without asking.

“Confident,” Brianna said dryly.

Jenny smiled. “I learn from the best.”

Brianna didn’t respond immediately, but she didn’t tell her to leave either. She took a sip of her milk tea.

“I told my parents about you,” Jenny said after a while.

Brianna looked up, mildly suspicious. “Why?”

“They asked if I had met any of the Kims. They knew you are arriving soon. I just said you were... interesting.”

Brianna raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you tell people about me?”

Jenny shrugged. “You’re not boring. That counts for something.”

There was silence between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

“You don’t act like people here,” Brianna finally said.

Jenny tilted her head. “People here don’t act one way. But I know what you mean. I’ve been around a lot of different types. Especially with my father working so closely with the Saavedras. You learn when to speak, when to listen, and when to smile.”

“And when to sit uninvited,” Brianna added, a trace of amusement in her voice.

Jenny smiled again, unfazed. “That too.”

They sat together for nearly an hour. Jenny talked about her childhood, climbing trees on the Saavedra estate, watching farmers plant by hand before the machines came in, learning to make coffee at age ten because the visitors always wanted it hot and strong.

Brianna, without meaning to, spoke about her high school in Vancouver. The way the snow muffled everything in the winter. The strict rules at her private school. How the silence of her grandmother’s house often felt heavier than noise.

It was the most Brianna had said about herself to anyone in months.

When Maria texted her to say the car was outside, Brianna stood reluctantly.

Jenny stood too. “You’ll come again?”

Brianna hesitated. “I might.”

Jenny only smiled. “I’ll save your seat.”

As she walked out, Brianna glanced over her shoulder. Jenny had returned to the counter, wiping down the trays, chatting with the other staff. Calm. Efficient. Kind.

And Brianna, for the first time, didn’t mind staying just a little longer in this unfamiliar, humid, frustrating place.

Maybe tomorrow, she’d ask Jenny to show her around. Not the tourist spots. The real ones.

But only maybe.