His Eyes

Chapter 4

T E R E S S A

I was coming down the stairs when my eldest caught sight of me and his father dressed up and ready to go out. I'd noticed him zoning out at the dinner table more and more lately. Whenever I asked, he always said the same thing — nothing, he was just thinking about exams and requirements. But that wasn't like him at all. Even back when he'd been buried in schoolwork with finals bearing down at the same time, he'd never acted like this.

Someone had mentioned to me that Denden had been talking to somebody constantly lately. Sometimes they'd even hear the two of them arguing.

Well, thank goodness for that, at least.

It meant he'd finally noticed someone. He'd always been the shy type — takes after me, I suppose, heh. But if they were arguing, maybe he'd upset whoever it was. No, impossible. My son's too kind for that.

"Ma? You're all dressed up? I saw Papa upstairs getting ready too. You two have a date?"

I swatted his arm. This kid. He'd gotten so much more playful lately — always cracking jokes, always laughing loudly.

"Yes, we have a date — at your father's hospital." I laughed at how surprised he looked.

"I'm just getting your Papa checked. His blood pressure's been acting up again."

He nodded, smirking.

"If it's just a checkup, you could've just shown the doctor a picture of him."

This kid, I swear. All that mischief must come from his father. Was my son in love, perhaps? Was that why they were arguing — a lovers' quarrel? Just like in one of Summer's dramas.

Hmm. Interesting.

"And you, anak? You've been awfully cheerful lately. Just let us know when you're ready to introduce her, so we can prepare properly."

"Introduce who, honey?"

My handsome husband had come downstairs without me noticing. Hihi. I leaned over and whispered what I'd been thinking. He nodded, smiling as he looked at our son.

"A-ano po bang sinasabi n'yo? I-I don't have a g-girlfriend!"

Hmm. Guess not, then.

But how did he know I meant "girlfriend" specifically?

"So what, then?"

"C-c-c-crush ko lang p-po s-siya. Y-yun lang. I-I'm running late. Can I get my allowance, please?"

Wait — why was he suddenly stammering like that? Rubbing the back of his neck, avoiding both our eyes entirely. My husband and I exchanged a look; I knew we were thinking the exact same thing. We asked, almost in unison:

"You love her?"

"W-WHAT? L-LOVE? ALREADY?"

Checkpoint reached!

Before he could faint from how pale he'd gone, I handed him two hundred pesos. I knew it would last him several days — he was always so careful with money. That's why we never minded giving him extra; he was smart, too. Honestly, all three of our kids were like that — thrifty and sharp.

I couldn't be prouder.

—

"Honey? Just a minute. Wait for me by the tricycle — I need to ask the doctor something. I'll be quick."

He nodded and I hurried back inside before he could even turn around, heading straight back to Dr. Chua's office.

"Oh, Mrs. Rotaquio? Back already?"

"Ah, doc. I won't beat around the bush. Could this be fatal?"

"Sit down first."

I sat immediately.

Please, God, no. I could already feel the tears coming just imagining it.

"It could be."

My whole body went rigid. One word, and my heart nearly stopped.

"But it can be managed early. You can let him do the things he wants to do, within reason. Your whole family needs to act the part — pretend everything's fine, that everything's normal. But if he ever tries to do something he thinks is harmless but could actually put him in danger, you'll need to step in immediately. Watch over him closely, if you can."

I let out a long breath. I was already crying, just thinking about what could happen.

"The whole family should know about this."

"Yes, doctor. They already do."

I walked out of that office in a daze. I'd thought it was something simple. I never imagined it could lead to death. I ran to my husband in tears and threw my arms around him.

"Shh. Let's go home. On Sunday we'll go to church. Everything's going to be fine."

"But honey, it could—"

"No. That won't happen. Nothing is impossible. Let's go."

I nodded and climbed in. I insisted on driving the tricycle myself.

I stole another glance at my husband, staring seriously ahead at the road. I knew exactly how heavy this was for him. But we couldn't afford to fall apart.

I quickly wiped my tears and forced a smile.

"Honey? Let's swing by Denden's school. I need to pay his tuition."

"Alright."

After paying — twelve thousand pesos, thankfully we'd been setting money aside for the kids' tuition — I was walking back out when a voice called after me.

"Mrs. Rotaquio."

I turned toward the guard. He knew me well — I sometimes brought him rice cakes to sell. I liked dabbling in little side businesses, anything that could turn a profit.

"Oh, Rosales." I greeted him.

He was one of my regular customers for suman. Sometimes his wife bought out my whole stock. We were neighbors, too.

"Looks like your son's made a friend. I keep seeing him head out these days. Always smiling, always in a good mood. Deniz's practically a young man now."

We both laughed.

"Ay, Rosales, if that's true, I'm grateful for it. Just hope he doesn't rush into anything and end up giving me a heart attack."

The laughter grew louder. We chatted a while longer, the other guards joining in too, teasing about how grown-up my son had become. I laughed along with them, though the worry never fully left me.

I know. I know.

Thank you to them, truly. I owed them more than I could repay. Real guardians, those men.

"Your husband's been waiting a while." Rosales glanced toward the parked tricycle. I caught his meaning and said my goodbyes.

"Thanks for watching over my son."

"No problem at all."

When I reached the tricycle, my husband's brow was furrowed. He looked like he was deep in thought.

"Honey? Something wrong? Are you in pain? Tell me."

"Let's go home first, honey. I'll tell you there. Someone spoke to me earlier while you were inside. An old man. Come on."

Curiosity got the better of me, so I started the engine right away. I couldn't wait to find out what that old man had said.

Why did he seem so troubled?

He'd been so quiet the whole ride. That wasn't like him at all. Usually he never stopped fussing at me—

Be careful.

Turn here.

Brake now.

Slow down.

That sort of thing.

But not this time. It only made me more anxious.

Once we got home, I sat myself down at the table, waiting for him to join me and tell me everything. It was just the two of us — the kids were still at school. Julia was in third year high school, Nene in sixth grade. They usually brought packed lunches, so they wouldn't be home until around four.

"The old man. He said he saw Denden with a girl. Pink hair, cut short. Heavy makeup, heavy lipstick. Very short clothes."

Oh my!

I knew it — our son was in love! But then why did my husband look so unhappy about it?

"Wait, honey. Shouldn't we be happy? Our son finally has a friend? And it sounds like my hunch was right — our boy's in love."

I felt genuinely overjoyed. Finally, our son had found someone. I'd honestly thought he lived in his own little world — he'd never had a single friend, not since he was small.

"I know that, honey. But didn't you catch what I just told you? About the girl with him?"

He gave me a look that practically said think harder about what I just said.

So I ran back through it. Hmm.

Pink hair?

Very short clothes?

Heavy makeup, heavy lipstick?

Wait!

"IS THE ONE WITH OUR SON GAY? IS OUR SON GAY? IS THAT IT?"

Good grief!

Why hadn't that occurred to me?

He threw a vegetable at me for that.

Ow!

"No, not that! Well — it's possible. But think beyond just that."

What else was there? I couldn't think of anything else. Pink hair. Short clothes. Heavy make—

"You mean maybe she's... a girl who does that kind of work? For money?"

"Exactly!"

No...

Our son could catch something from a girl like that. We needed to separate them.

"H-honey? What if we split them up while it's still early? What if he catches something from that girl?"

He threw another vegetable at me.

"That's the wrong way to think about this. This might be the first real friend our son's ever had, and you want to tear it apart already? No. Not like that. Let's talk to him first — confirm whether our suspicion is even right. If it is, we correct it gently, while there's still time."

I gave him a thumbs up. Fair point. My husband really is something.

"Wait — how do you know this old man?"

"Oh, I know him very well."

"Who is he?"

"Alright, honey, I'm going to go change. You should too. The kids will be home soon, and I'm sure they'll be starving."

And with that, he headed upstairs.

He'd dodged the question entirely.