Chapter 1
1034 Words
Lucy collapsed onto the sofa the second she stepped into their modest living room, limbs spread like she had just fought a war. Her bag slid off her shoulder and landed with a soft thud on the floor.
“Ugh!” she groaned, covering her face with a pillow. “Another wasted day. I swear, if I hear ‘We’ll just call you’ one more time, I’ll throw myself into the nearest river.”
From the kitchen came the voice of her mother, Lucilda Cordova—Momsie to Lucy. “You’re home already? And complaining again? What’s new?”
Papsie, her father, followed close behind carrying a glass of water. He chuckled at his daughter’s melodrama. “Who’s your enemy this time, hija? The jeepney driver? The tricycle fare collector? Or was it the poor HR manager you left traumatized?”
Lucy shot up, eyes narrowed. “Papsie, it’s not funny! I worked hard for my degree, and still no one wants me. My records are clean, my résumé is neat, but every single time, it’s always that line!” She mimicked a nasal voice: “We’ll just call you, Miss Cordova.” Then she rolled her eyes dramatically.
Her father laughed harder. “Maybe it’s your face. They saw you and thought, ah, too pretty, she’ll just cause office trouble.”
“Ha-ha, very funny.” Lucy hugged the pillow tighter. “No one ever hires the pretty ones. Or maybe they’re scared I’ll outshine them.”
Momsie joined her on the sofa, still wearing her apron. She patted her daughter’s shoulder gently. “Patience, sweetheart. Hard work and patience. That’s the real investment.”
Lucy groaned louder and crossed herself dramatically. “Lord, please release my Momsie from whatever spirit possessed her! She’s spouting inspirational quotes again!”
A smack landed on her head, light but sharp. “You’re the one who’s possessed, Lucresia Marie! Maybe that’s why you’re not getting hired, because you act like a lunatic during interviews.”
Lucy pouted, rubbing her head. “Ouch, Momsie! And how many times do I have to tell you? It’s Lucy, not Lucresia. That’s not me. That’s some other poor girl you adopted!”
Papsie chuckled, setting down his glass. “Lucil, this daughter of yours is impossible. You handle her.”
Momsie huffed, standing. “No, Mauricio, she’s your daughter. She gets her stubbornness from you!”
Lucy gasped in mock betrayal. “So now you’re passing me around like a hot potato? Fine! I’ll disown you both. Papsie, you love your chickens more than you love me anyway.”
“Of course,” Papsie shot back without hesitation. “They give me profit.”
Lucy placed a hand on her chest, gasping as if stabbed. “Traitors! Both of you!” She spun around dramatically and buried her face in the pillow again.
In the Cordova household, this was love: endless bickering, playful insults, and laughter echoing through the small house.
Upstairs in her room, Lucy stared at herself in the mirror, tilting her head side to side. Her reflection smirked back.
“You’re still pretty, girl,” she told herself, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
She wasn’t vain—well, maybe a little, but she knew she was attractive. Average height, warm brown skin kissed by the sun, almond eyes with a spark that could both tease and challenge. A face that once entered beauty pageants, though she never won, she always stood out.
At twenty-three, she was still NBSB. Not because no one had tried. She had her share of suitors, but Lucy wanted her first boyfriend to be her last. She wasn’t looking for a fling. She was waiting for a love story.
Back downstairs, the aroma of sticky rice and coconut filled the air. Momsie was in the kitchen, slicing freshly cooked biko into neat squares.
“Momsie, that smells heavenly,” Lucy said, sliding into a chair with renewed energy. “Can I?”
Her mother smiled and placed a plate before her. Lucy took a bite, savoring the sweetness, when a sudden question almost made her choke.
“So, sweetheart… when will you finally get yourself a boyfriend?”
Lucy spat water, coughing so hard, her mother had to pat her back. “What kind of question is that, Momsie?!”
Her mother’s face was dead serious. “Because, ever since, you’ve never introduced a single man to us. Your Papsie and I are starting to wonder about your… preferences.”
Lucy’s jaw dropped. “Wow, Momsie. Just wow! Other parents lock their daughters away to stop them from dating, but you’re pushing me to get one? Don’t worry, I’m still a woman, complete with uterus. I’m just… waiting. For a sign.”
Momsie folded her arms, unimpressed. “A sign? Sweetheart, you’re twenty-three. At your age, your Papsie and I were already married. Do you want to end up a spinster?”
Lucy rolled her eyes. “Relax, Momsie. There’s plenty of fish in the sea.”
Her mother raised a brow. “And what if there’s a red tide? All the fish die. Then what?”
Lucy stabbed her fork into the biko. “Then I’ll settle for the survivors!”
“If only you’d say yes to my friend’s son,” Momsie muttered under her breath.
Lucy gagged. “Hard pass. He’s as stiff as a wooden spoon. No, thanks. I want someone exciting, maybe a little grumpy, a little hard to get, but the type who makes my heart race. Someone destined for me.”
Another smack landed on her head. “You’re just hungry. Eat more, Lucresia Marie Cordova!”
Lucy’s eyes widened in mock horror. “Child a***e! Momsie, that’s illegal!”
“You’re not a child anymore,” her mother shot back.
“I still have a baby face!” Lucy argued.
And just like that, the two burst into laughter, their playful quarrel filling the small house with warmth.
Mother and daughter. Best friends. Eternal rivals. And for Lucy, no matter how bleak job hunting seemed, as long as she had this chaos at home, she could face the world again tomorrow.
- Writer
