Route 43

A BUCKET OF RED TULIPS

There were two words my father left me before passing away five years ago. And these are responsibility first. It's a general, almost euphemistic way of saying company first before anything else. And I can add more to the list such as no girls, be cold hearted, stay away from social media, keep your privacy and money first before s*x. No casual dates, no friendly gestures, no room for mistakes, no outside public life except from the VR game console waiting for me in my room. And putting it blandly VR is not even physically public.

I belong to the so-called Philippine's 1%. So to speak I am one of the thousands of elites in the Philippines. My parents were hotel heir and heiress themselves so I was born with a silver-spoon on my mouth. Our rows of hotel businesses root from the majestic era of the King Marcos I dating back 1970s. If country leaders, whether Kings and Queens or Presidents were invited to the Philippines, our hotels are chosen to host their stay so the legacy of the Val de Ramas are quite something and I am responsible for keeping it untainted and well kept.

With that being said, should I blame my father for making my lifestyle overly conservative? I had no choice but be tamed.

"Lucas, shall we head over to grandma's?" Dylan, my younger brother's voice interrupts my reverie. In a split second, I remember I am still standing in front of my father's gold laden, cave of a huge, cold, underground catacomb, almost the size of my childhood playroom. The strong scent of the freshly picked white roses and all these colorful flowers unknown to me baffled my nose once again. The damp scent of the cold, grey, cemented wall mixes with the flowery smell. It's a salad of smell that makes me either want to puke or sneeze. The warmth of Dylan's two tiny hands holding my right awakened my senses. The small, white yellow spotlights in the eight corners of the cube room lit up again. The black, be-flowered, marble tomb reappear in my front. I'm back to reality.

"For sure." I answer facing him and showing off a slightly arched smile. He makes a step forward then takes another one but stops when he noticed that I haven't moved a foot yet. I am still glued to my reverie—a lingering gravity of mixed emotions has held me up like a flytrap. I want to either burst out or throw a tantrum for taking away my life with him in the grave but Dylan is with me so I have to put up a tough facade or even without him watching me. I could not do anything about death anymore anyway.

"He would say that you're doing a good job for keeping the company and me safe and alive." Dylan surprisingly says and with this I have to bite my tears back even harder than ever before. Should I be happy or should I be upset? Or maybe I should feel sorry for him. Even with his seemingly innocent mind, he's able to sponge in the whys and hows of being an elite. Is it a good thing or is it the opposite? Should I reprimand him or should I praise him? I let out a sigh to, at least, seemingly answer him.

"Will you please lead the way?" I ask him afterwards as he answers "I'm honored to." His stern back faces me as we make our way to the next tomb which is our grandmother in the father side. Her catacomb is quite an older version of my father's just that he had no flowers today or at least not until three months and fifteen days from now because today is father's death anniversary.

Aside from father, our grandmother had been our last remaining guardian ever since both of our parents left us. Grandma died three years ago at the age of 92. My father died at the age of 71. My mother is considered dead since she's been missing in action fifteen years ago. She left us. And I disliked it.

Unlike my father, grandma left me with a sentence. Find your happiness and you will find peace. And if you assume that I like my grandma better, then you've guessed it right. She's more laidback and liberal, more subtle and caring. And I guess she's Dylan's favorite, too.

"What do you think would she tell us, Lucas?" Dylan asks me as we step into the cold room.

"Well, I think that she would tell us to always be happy and be at peace." I answer him.

"Is that where you're at right now?" Surprisingly enough, he asks me.

"Well, I guess I am. How about you?" I lie.

"Me? Let's say I wanna be there." He says in a quiet voice.

"Hm," is all I have to answer.

"Can you take me there?"

Oh, this kid really knows a lot.

"Hm, where shall we start?" I asks just to answer.

"I don't know. I've never been to happiness yet," he answers blandly. He's got a point.

"Right. Well, let's start knowing what is actually bothering you, I guess," I answer. With this, he turns around and begins walking forward. I follow him after whispering a quiet prayer to her. I need your guidance, grandma. Dylan is actually growing up. There are only a few years left before he would discover things.

"Never mind, I'll do it later." He answers as we start walking out the catacomb. He looks back as if saying goodbye to her for one last time before heading to the dark hall which leads to the elevator. I sniffle a quiet giggle realizing that he actually could be moody at times. Seeing it reminds me of a new bloom in a group of flower buds. Very interesting to watch. Just interesting.

We spend the ride up to the living area quietly until my phone rings. Calls are something that should never be ignored in this household so I fish my phone out from my pocket immediately. Fortunately, it's our Tita Ruby, a relative to my mother. My heart skips a beat. It has been ages since she called.

"Hello, Dylan. How are you doing?" She sounds friendly and elegant as always with her BGC accent.

"Hey Tita Ruby, it's been a while. How are you?" I answer sounding sulky, though. It's really been a while since she called—half a year, maybe. Had she not been busy with her own luxury bag business, we would probably have a weekend staycation in Balesin.

"I know my dear, I'm so sorry. I'm good though, thank you. Well, I'm thinking about meeting you guys for dinner tonight. I mean, nasa daanan na ako." She informs quiet excitedly.

My father always told me to keep my circle of friends small even with our relatives. He actually had put a list pasted behind my full length bathroom mirror of who to trust and who to call during emergencies. Some are relatives, some are not. She had managed to gain my father's trust to make it to the list so I should trust her, too.

"For sure, Tita! What do you want to eat? We still have time to prepare." I answer.

The elevator door swings open and we are met by Dylan's maid who escorts him to the kitchen. He lets go of my hand as he holds his maid's with both of his.

"It's on me, Lou! Don't sweat." She reassures.

"Are you sure? Where are you now though?" I ask resting one of my arm across my torso.

"I'm in Olongapo right now. I'll hit the road once I'm done with the transaction." She says.

"Alright. By the way, is Anna Marie with you?" Its my cousin to her. My voice almost cracked in excitement. I almost forgot asking about her.

"Unfortunately, she can't tonight. She said she'll make bawi nalang daw sayo this week. I have no idea about what she have up her sleeves, though." Unfortunately indeed.

Anna Marie is the same age as me so we automatically vibe though face time is the only way we could catch up with each other these days. I guess pre-med in Singapore is really physically and mentally incapacitating.

"Aw, too bad. I'll chat her later nalang." I answer.

"O s'ya, I'll see you later, okay? I have already preordered you and Dyl's favorites at Cabalen." She sounds overly excited.

"Gosh, I can't wait. I'll see you. Don't rush, okay? We'll wait for you tonight." I reply matching her excitement.

"Aw, darling! Always an ever so thoughtful gentleman you are. I'll be there with my scratch–free Mercedes." She says spritefully.

"That's good. Not even a speck, okay?"

"Affirmative, not even a speck." She answers.

"Alright, see you later Tita. I love you." I say.

"See you, sweetie. I love you, too. Hugs and kisses for Dylan, as well."

"Sure, Tita."

"Alright, bye darling."

"Bye, Tita. Ingat."

"Uh-hum."

The line goes off as I make my way to the dining area where Dylan has been finishing off his meal in the breakfast table adjacent to the kitchen island. I'm not surprised the orange-haired Ms. Reese in a black, sleek dress ending just above her knee is here with a small, rattan bucket of red tulips on the table beside her. She's sitting in the tall chair, her left arm propped up on the gray marble breakfast tabletop to support her elbow almost tipping the bucket of flower to the edge. Her crescent right side view shows how impossibly fit she is for her age of thirty six. I would have been surprised since today is supposedly and traditionally, may I add, is her rest day. I have not asked her for anything yet but I already knew why she came without being told because of the bucket of my father's favorite flowers she brought with her.

Dylan and her are having a comfy conversation which if not about cats is about superheroes. Ms. Reese straightens her back and stands up as my eyes meet hers. I twist my mouth in an arc with which she replies with the same gesture. She had been the family confidant since my father's secretary passed away ten years ago. Now I gained her as my secretary.

"Sir, I'm late. I'm sorry." She says. I would love to tease her and act angry as I always do but today is exceptionally a sentimental day for the rest of the company staffs and the relatives for sure. However, it is only Tita Ruby who made a call.

"It's totally fine, Ms. Reese. You can put them yourself downstairs if you want to." I answer eyeing the flowers.

"Yes, sir I will. Thank you." She makes a little bow and eyes me gently almost spilling out the tears swelling underneath her eyes.

"Oh, but have you had lunch already?" I almost forgot to ask.

"Yes, sir. Don't worry. But I'll be off as soon as I pay respect." She answers.

"Already? But I'm not done telling you about calico cats yet." Dylan says sulkily. I almost forgot he's listening to us.

"I will have enough time tomorrow, Dylan. You can tell me all about them as soon as I finish work." She answers him.

"Promise?" Dylan says and I find it completely and subjectively annoying as he pulls out his baby side.

"I promise." She says as she pulls off a pinky promise and a big grin on her face.

"Alright. I'll see you tomorrow, then." Dylan says as he takes her pinky with his.

"I'll see you tomorrow as well, I guess." I say.

"Yes, Sir Lucas. I'll see you tomorrow." She answers with a small smile. She turns around as she takes the bucket of flowers and makes her way to the elevator. I noticed that she's exceptionally sentimental today. What else could have had happened?

Ignoring my observation (because it might be personal and she wants to keep it all by herself for now) I take my seat beside Dylan in the breakfast area where Ms. Reese was sitting before so I am facing him. He's grinding a spoonful of beef and sautéed vegetables in his mouth quietly and poshly, may I say.

"Lucas, I want Ms. Reese to be my aunt. Why can't you just ask her to marry you?" Dylan asks all of a sudden. I almost jumped off the tall chair. The plate of hot food the maid just gave me and a glass of orange juice would have almost spilled on the floor.

"Oh, for goodness' sake just finish your food." I answer scratching the side of my ear as I stifle a laugh.

"You see? You like her, don't you?" His face begins to lit up teasingly.

"No. But do you know what I am sure about? You are annoying and you know a lot." I answer as I tickle his side with my index finger. He jumps of his chair laughing and teasing me.

"Hey, finish your food boy!" I say in a loud voice as I try suppressing my laughter as well. I eye him as he runs around the kitchen still laughing and teasing at the same time. I keep up with him pretending to jump off the chair and chase him but I stay seated. I begin eating my food as he keeps doing his business.

Regarding Ms. Reese, I must admit that her physique is completely my type. Average height, slender, average bust, long neck and legs but like I said I have no time for love nor even lust. I have to stay focused or everything else will fall apart.

As soon as I finish lunch and with this Dylan is done with his business as well the telephone hanging out in the living room beside the white, upright piano rings aggressively. The hairs behind my neck stands up. My palm starts to sweat since the telephone line is only for emergency. A telephone call is not a joke in this household.