A NIGHT TO BE REMEMBER

CHAPTER 01

I let out a tired sigh as I wiped the sweat from my face. It's been a busy month for us since Christmas is almost here, and we’re packed with orders from different customers.

“Do you want to rest, my love?” my mom asked.

I shook my head. “No need, Mom. We’re closing in just a few minutes.”

After my mom decided to divorce and leave my dad, we returned to the Philippines and settled in the province. It was challenging for me growing up here because I didn’t know how to speak the local dialect.

“Your daughter is so beautiful, right?” said my mom’s friend.

“Thank you, Aling Nena,” I replied with a smile. She was one of the people who helped us when we were new to this place. Half of the land here belonged to her, and we were incredibly grateful for the support she gave us.

“What’s your heritage, Katarina?” she asked my mom.

People would often ask us about our background because of our features, accents, and my foreign-sounding name. My mom just smiled and replied, “I'm fully Russian, and my daughter is 1/4 Filipino.” It was the same answer she’d given countless times.

Aling Nena’s eyes lit up with interest. “Ah, that explains it. You both have a beautiful combination!”

I felt a bit shy but smiled politely. Growing up here had been tough, but little by little, the warmth of people like Aling Nena made it easier. My mom and I had been embraced by this small community, who treated us like family despite our differences.

“Why were you so good at Tagalog when you first got here? I even thought you had Filipino blood,” Kuya Roberto asked.

My mom laughed. “My adopted parents are Filipino, so I learned because they taught me Tagalog.”

They nodded and didn’t ask further questions.

“Do you want to close the shop tonight, my love?” my mom asked.

I nodded, grateful for the chance to take on more responsibility. The small bakery had become our lifeline since we arrived, and we poured our hearts into it each day. As I went around to lock up, I felt a sense of pride. Life here was simple but honest. It was far from the life we’d left behind, yet it felt like home.

When the last customer left, my mom and I shared a tired smile. “It’s already over, my love,” she said softly, wiping her hands on her apron.

I looked at her, noticing how her face had softened over the years. The tension that once seemed permanently etched there was gone.

“Are you happy here, Mom?” I asked, genuinely curious.

She paused, looking thoughtful. Then she nodded, her eyes misty. “Yes, my child. It’s tough, but I’m happy because you’re here, and we have a peaceful life.”

I hugged her tightly. In this small, simple life, we had found peace—something we hadn’t truly known before.

As we locked up the bakery and walked home under the starlit sky, I knew we had a long road ahead. But here in this little corner of the world, we had each other, and somehow, that was more than enough.

“You’re turning eighteen next year, my love! Don’t you want anything?” my mom suddenly asked, her hands deep in dough and flour smudged across her cheek.

I shook my head. “I already have what I want, Mom.”

“Really? And what’s that?”

I smiled, feeling my chest warm with gratitude. “A peaceful and happy life, together with you.”

“Sus, ambot saimo!” she replied in her thick accent, making me laugh. “We’ve been here for ten years, but our accents still haven’t changed.”

“It’s in the blood, Mom,” I said, still laughing.

We both stopped as the bakery door’s bell jingled, signaling a customer’s arrival. I glanced over, expecting one of our regulars, but instead, a young man stood there. He looked around, his gaze settling on the rows of cookies in the display case.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted with a warm smile. “I’d like to order a large batch of cookies. How many can you pack?”

My mom stepped forward, wiping her hands on her apron. “Depends on how large you want the batch to be, son,” she replied with a smile.

“Let’s say... four dozen?” he asked, his eyes meeting mine as he spoke. There was something warm and familiar in his expression.

“That’s a lot of cookies,” I remarked, half-laughing. “Planning a party?”

He shrugged with a charming grin. “Not exactly. Let’s just say I have a bit of a sweet tooth.”

My mom chuckled, already turning to start another batch of dough. “Well, you came to the right place!”

As I prepared the boxes, he struck up small talk, asking about the bakery, our menu, and even complimenting the aroma.

“Are you perhaps Russian?” he suddenly asked, studying my face.

I chuckled. “How did you know?”

He smiled, satisfied. “I guessed right! You and your mom have very distinct features.”

We talked for a few more minutes while I prepared his order. He told me that he’d be giving the cookies to children on the nearby island. I didn’t mention it, but we were close to a beach resort, which meant a lot of orders from foreigners as well.

“Here you go,” I said, handing him the boxes. “Four dozen cookies, all packed and ready.”

“Thank you so much,” he said, taking the boxes carefully. “By the way, I’m Khamil.”

“Ksenia,” I replied with a smile.

“Ksenia,” he repeated, as if testing the name. “It was nice meeting you, Ksenia. I’ll definitely be back.”

As he walked out, I couldn’t help but watch him go, his easy smile still lingering in my mind. My mom raised an eyebrow, her knowing look making me roll my eyes.

“A customer, Mom,” I reminded her with a laugh.

“Today,” she said with a teasing grin. “But you never know about tomorrow.”

I shook my head, smiling as I went back to work. But even as I kneaded the dough, I realized I was still smiling.

Just like he said, Khamil really came back the next day. He grinned widely as he watched me place his chosen cookies into two boxes, saying they were just for him. He said he loved the cookies we made, so he came back to buy more.

“Where do you study?” he suddenly asked.

“Apex Crest Academy, in the next town over,” I answered. My eyes widened as he suddenly choked on his drink.

“Oh my gosh! Are you okay?” I asked, hurrying to him with a tissue.

“Yeah! Sorry for that. I was just surprised,” he replied, taking the tissue from my hand. “I’m going to study there too.”

“Really? Are you serious?” I asked excitedly.

He nodded. “Yes, my friends and I just transferred there.”

"Wow, that's amazing!" I said, still feeling a bit of excitement at the thought of having a familiar face at school.

"Yeah, I know, right?" Khamil replied, smiling as he took a bite of one of the cookies. "Though to be honest, I'm kind of nervous. New school, new faces… not always easy."

I laughed, nodding in agreement. "I totally get that. When I first moved here, I didn't know anyone, and I barely knew the language. But you'll fit right in. Everyone's super friendly."

He leaned in a little, as if sharing a secret. "Good to know I'll have an ally, though," he said with a playful wink.

My cheeks grew warm, and I quickly looked away, pretending to focus on packing another box of cookies. "Well, if you ever need any help, I’ll be around. I know my way around the school pretty well by now."

Khamil’s eyes brightened. “I’ll definitely take you up on that,” he said. “Maybe you could even give me a tour?”

“Sure, I’d love to,” I replied, surprised at how natural it felt to talk to him.

The bakery door jingled again, and my mom returned from the kitchen, spotting Khamil still seated at the counter with a smile on his face. She glanced between the two of us, her eyes gleaming with that same knowing look as yesterday.

“Would you like more cookies, Khamil?” she asked, already reaching for another box.

He laughed, holding up his hand. “Thank you, but this is enough for now, Ms. Katarina. I’ll save room for more next time.”

“Ah, I see,” she said, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “Well, Ksenia is right here, so feel free to come anytime.”

Khamil laughed again, scratching the back of his head. “I just might,” he replied, flashing me a look before turning to leave. “See you around, Ksenia.”

“See you, Khamil,” I said, waving as he walked out the door.

My mom turned to me with a sly grin as soon as the door closed. “Seems like we have a new regular.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to hide the smile that insisted on showing itself. “Mom, he’s just a customer.”

She gave me a playful nudge. “We’ll see, anak. Sometimes, that’s how all good things start.”

As I cleaned up the counter, I found myself smiling. Maybe she was right. Khamil was just a customer now, but I couldn’t help but feel that there was something more. And as Christmas approached, with the warmth of the bakery and a new friendship blossoming, I had a feeling this season would be more memorable than ever.