Chapter Text
“Grandma’s inviting you back.” Rio said on the line; his voice was as clear as a new day—livened up by the familiar gruff edge in his voice. She could feel him smirking on the phone.
Two days ago, Beth received a call from Rio. She was taking a morning shower when all of a sudden, her phone rang.
She was playing some music; lightheartedly singing along and swaying her head rhythmically to Earth, Wind & Fire’s September while lathering soap all over her body. It was the perfect song to start her day, get her on a relatively giddy mood. The funky melody abruptly stopped and was replaced by a loud ringing—indicating an incoming call. Beth closed her eyes and let out an annoyed groan, stepping out of the shower. She hastily dried her hands, wiping her face afterwards with a towel.
“All right, all right!” She exclaimed to her phone’s continuous ringing. Beth picked up her phone on the sink and saw Rio’s caller ID displayed on the screen like a morning announcement. She let out an even more pronounced sigh. It’s too early for this shit. She thought, mildly displeased.
She answered, but didn’t say anything.
“Elizabeth.” Rio spoke; the pronunciation of her name lilting cordially, like he knows that he has to get on her good side at such early notice.
“What do you want?” Beth replied coolly.
“Good morning to you too.” He said, maintaining the same pleasant tone in his voice.
Unlike Beth, Rio doesn’t find it difficult to diffuse the tension between them every now and then. She’s less inclined to make an effort in being pleasant towards him, though she’s becoming more approachable and less cold nowadays. On the other hand, Rio takes her behavior towards him with a grain of salt. It’s because he knows that it could be worse, yet they still manage being together as partners. So, neither of them push it further that it feels forced nor pull it back that it makes working less better. It’s a gray area, thought it’s better than utter darkness.
Since they still work together, interacting with each other is inevitable. And Beth has no hesitations in making him feel like this brings a burden to her back that she’s forced to carry. Instead of feeling an equal dismay, Rio simply goes with it, goes with her; he knows it annoys her when he comes up out of the blue or calls her without notice, like the other time that he told her to double the production for a lesser cut because she couldn’t produce the same amount of batch as much as last week.
Simply put, if night and day could exist at the same time, they are the confounding description and imagery of it. There’s a stark difference between them. But then again, night without day is unimaginable.
Rio cleared his throat on the line. “Thought you was still sleepin’.”
“I was.” Beth replied almost too immediately.
“Oh yeah? I think I can hear water dripping though.” He pointed out. Beth cursed Rio’s heightened senses. It’s like he could hear everything—feel everything around him. She can imagine him raising his brows in light amusement; his brief thinking face looking back at her.
Beth paused for a moment, shuffling her feet. She wiped the drops of water on her forehead with the back of her hand.
Rio huffed. “You sleep in the shower?” He asked wryly.
“No, I mean—“ She began to explain, then letting out a breath. “I was earlier, I’m up now.”
“Right, okay.”
“Okay.”
There was a pause on the line. The silence felt as heavy as grey clouds before a rainstorm, and Beth received the sudden lack of conversation with strange discomfort; not because she found it awkward, but because she wanted to say something but couldn’t find any words to say. Meanwhile, Rio doesn’t mind sustaining the silence longer. Even if it just consists of an exchange of breaths.
Though sometimes, Rio thinks about what Beth might be thinking beyond just what she allows him to see. He used to think that he knows her completely, though what happened between them taught him to ground himself; calculate better choices because sentiments often muddles one’s judgment. Nevertheless, he knows the parts of her—the good and the bad unlike any other.
But nowadays, there’s not much to be seen.
So when Rio told Beth why he called, it caught her off guard; her brows pulled upwards, lips slightly parted in mild astonishment.
Why? Was the first thing that she thought. She stood there momentarily, thinking about it with narrowed eyes staring at the tiled walls. Rio cleared his throat, and Beth quickly remembered how she forgot to say anything in reply.
“When? She managed to say.
“In two days.”
“Is there an occasion?”
“Yeah, a cousin of mine’s comin’ home for a visit and grandma’s hosting a party.” He explained.
Beth nods, taking the information in. “Oh, like a welcome party.”
Rio hummed, assenting. Then, he added. “A lot of my family and friends will be there.”
Beth swallowed, her breath hitched like it briefly got trapped in her lungs. She couldn’t imagine herself in that situation; having to socialize with Rio’s family and friends is doubling the gravity of her effort in having to work with him. Like this man isn’t already enough, he comes to her early morning and tells her to meet more of his family and friends. Beth puts away the phone from her ears for a moment, looking away—her composure evidently unsettled, like she walked miles and miles on the road and ended up at a dead end. It’s already so confusing, messy even. What will she even do there?
“Hey, don’t sweat it.” Rio responded to her silence; Beth huffed, she couldn’t turn it down. Besides, she doesn’t know how to nor could she muster the energy to explain that she couldn’t come, that she's busy or whatever; then Rio would find her in her couch, wearing sweats while watching reality TV—a look of dismay plastered on his face and he’d say,“this what you mean by busy?”
Easy for you to say. She retorted mentally. God, what would she say if his friends and family were to ask her who she is, what she does and how she’s connected to Rio? Of course it’s a close circle and everybody would know everyone there, so why does she have to be there.
Could it be that his grandmother liked her? Last time, he said that they’re gonna want to meet you; so it’s not like it’s Rio’s idea for her to be among them, especially with something as intimate and personal as a family welcoming party.
Beth pressed her lips together, nodding. “Okay.”
“Alright then, I’ll see you.”
She put down her phone after the call ended, her mood taking a drastic shift and making her feel a strange sensation of uneasiness in her stomach, like a building anticipation. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, pursing her lips. Then she suddenly remembered how Phoebe and Dave could know about this, of her whereabouts; it would cause suspicion and so for a brief moment, Beth mulled over the situation.
If she tells them about going to Rio’s “boss” for the second time, they’d use her again as leverage in collecting information. But then again, it’s not like her previous performance brought anything useful nor productive in their investigation. She was too busy improvising. Now, she’s back in bench-warming.
So, she decided; comforting herself that it wouldn’t be a big deal. “What’s the point?” She said to herself passively.
She won’t tell them about it and truth be told, it doesn’t bother her too much to not provide information about it because she doesn’t think that it would be much of a deal. And besides, it’s Beth’s little way of retaliating to Phoebe and Dave considering how she’s been told to stay court side for a while. If she’s not playing, then she will definitely take the break seriously.
Just like that, mixing with the building anticipation, Beth felt a lightly comforting feeling of leniency. It may be short, but she’ll allow herself to let go a bit during this break. Otherwise, what else can she do? She might as well enjoy herself, or even discover something new about Rio from his family and friends.
When the thought passed over her, she instinctively redirected her thoughts to something else. But, she finds herself coming back to it—making her feel flustered, caught in her own train of thoughts in entertaining the idea of being with Rio and his family; because truthfully, she did enjoy herself at his grandmother’s home. Well, most part of it. Except for the part that she had to wear a wire, since it added a weight to her body and mind unlike she’s ever felt, like she was walking on a tightrope—balancing the moment with them, while having her mind elsewhere.
When the day came, she decided to wear a casual, vintage summer dress—its layers flow effortlessly; with short sleeves, the length stops at her knees and it’s in the deep shade of forest green. She styled her hair into soft, tousled curls that settled nicely on her shoulders, then she quickly applied some makeup; pinking her lips and cheeks with a lipstick and putting on eyeliner—simple, matching the vibe of her outfit. She put on some tan-colored, ankle-strap sandals with mid-height heels. When she looked in the mirror, Beth felt impressed that she was able to make herself look and feel good in under an hour, while at the same time, most of her household chores were done and the kids were all in school with Dean mostly out of the way, preoccupied by his new biking adventures. As a mom of 4, she’s always been able to be quick on her feet; a skill that’s been maximized ever since she’s been doing her job, a life of crime that heightened her keen senses.
When Beth finished getting ready, she still had time left to kill; around half an hour to herself, irking her a little because she has no idea what to do to pass that time. She might’ve gotten a little too overwhelmed and got ready much earlier than expected. Then, she suddenly had an idea; like a lightbulb moment, she thought of getting something to bring to the party. Last time, she came empty-handed. In retrospection, it seemed quite off to not bring anything at someone’s house when the host accommodated and fed you. The thought made her frown, lightly reprimanding herself. But then again, it wasn’t a lighthearted event on her side at that time, considering how she was doing it with the Secret Service.
This time might be somehow, a little different. Minus the conspiracy, it felt like less baggage to Beth. It’s just having to deal with both Rio and his family and friends that bug her a bit, like she couldn’t rid herself of the weighing feeling as though they might have a certain expectation attached to her.
She shook herself of the thoughts. Thinking to her feet, Beth grabbed her purse and went outside. There’s no time to cook, so she’s going to have to scour the neighborhood for a good place to take out some food, or maybe some freshly baked pastries from a local small business. It might seem like a stretch, even Beth admits to herself that it’s bold to bring food to a Latin household. It has to be good. So, she’s going to need to be meticulous about what she’s getting and where she’s buying it.
Beth went inside her car and started the ignition, while ticking off the ideas she has in her head of the food she’s going to get. I don’t know what they’ll have prepared or what they’d like. She added in her train of thoughts. She caught herself thinking when she glanced to her side mirror—her brows furrowed, a fixed expression on her face and her lips slightly parted; like the burden of her thoughts involved planning the next revolution, and not about what food to get for Rio’s family and friends. Beth surprised herself a little with how preoccupied she is. She let out a breath, the heat of the sun glowing over her. Then, she started driving.
When she came back home, she was carrying two carefully-wrapped pastel boxes of assorted baked goods—strawberry croissant tarts, dulce de leche cupcakes, dark chocolate and cranberry biscotti and salted caramel cookie bars. It’s quite apt too because it’s easily shareable; people could just come up to the table and grab one or two. She felt satisfied of her last-minute errand, agreeing to herself that the best gifts are the ones you can eat.
Just as Beth was about to go to the porch, something caught her eye. She went over to her garden, eyeing the flowers in her planter boxes. Most of her marigolds got thrashed; the stems drooped all over each other, the leaves barely hanging and the petals were strewn on the boxes, like it got assailed by a wild dog or a bouncing ball from one of her neighbor’s kids. Either way, whatever happened it made her feel sad and a little angry.
She crouched, propping her fist on her chin; grimacing over the sudden destruction of her favorite flowers. It’ll take a while to replace them, so she began to think of what must’ve happened so she could avoid such nuisance. She grabbed some of the ruined flowers—twirling the stem unhappily in her fingertips. Just as Beth was thinking, she heard firm strides of feet not far behind her.
“Hey.”
Slightly surprised, she turned around with widened eyes. Rio didn’t tell her that he’d pick her up; he just said the time and that she should get there early. Still crouching, Beth put her hand to her forehead, shielding her eyes from the sunlight as she looked up at a grinning Rio. She swallowed, her feet started to feel numb from her lowered position.
“Hey.” She replied, giving a lopsided smile.
“What you got there?”
“Someone… Well, something destroyed my flowers.” Beth explained, there’s a light tone of sadness in her voice.
Rio directed his gazed to the planter boxes and nodded. “Your kids?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Kids can get crazy.”
Beth agreed. “Maybe it’s my neighbor’s dog.”
“Nah, it shouldn’t be destroyed like that then. There ain’t no burrows, dogs like to dig.”
She paused; tilting her head sideways, Beth looked at him. “Yeah, you’re right.”
They were silent for a moment. She tried to stand up, but the numbness that whelmed her feet made her falter—the sensation felt like a surge of small thunderbolts. Instinctively, she extended her arms outwards to balance herself.
Rio, quick to his feet, reached over. He held her forearms as she stood up; their eyes meeting briefly, but the moment felt as long as the passing of the morning sun over them. He saw her pupils dilate, the brightness of the surroundings accentuated the piercing blue color of her eyes; Rio looking back with his brown ones—like earth touching the seas; a seamless convergence. It felt warm, like simply looking at them is like dipping his feet in ocean waters. She felt warm in his arms.
Beth broke away, muttering a “thank you” then she walked towards her front door to lock it. Rio stepped aside; and as she was walking back towards him, he saw her fully—her dress, her face and her hair. All together, the sight made him smile. The gentle wind coursing pass her, lightly billowing her dress; she quickly places her hands over the lower fabric, stopping it from billowing in the breeze.
Elizabeth looks really nice. Rio thought. Admittedly, he likes it when she dresses like this. It’s because he knows that it also makes her feel good. So, he allowed himself to admire her from afar.
And Rio took his time to look at her.
“Are we going now?” Beth asked, adjusting the long strap of her bag on her shoulder.
“Yeah, already here so might as well.” He replied, giving a small shrug.
They went inside his car; the morning glow began to look brighter around them. Just as Beth was going inside his car, her elderly neighbor was gawking at her—a confounded look on her face; eyes wide and mouth hanging slightly open, accentuating the aged lines on her face. The old woman must’ve been stunned to see that this is what Beth’s doing when her kids and husband aren’t home. Instead of responding in equal dismay, Beth waved at her and gave a warm smile. Surprised by her warmth, the old woman hesitated but eventually she smiled back and returned to her gardening.
Rio waited, then started the ignition.
It’s a 25-minute drive to his grandma’s house. During the course of their drive, Beth was fidgeting in her seat. Every now and then, she’d gaze outside the passing view of the houses and trees; afterwards, she’d gaze ahead or look down and toy with the hem of her dress.
But, she’d never look to her left.
During that moment, she couldn’t. She doesn’t know why. It’s the turbulence and complexity of all her emotions churning inside of her that’s making her feel strangely moved by him. She’s been trying so hard to get away from him but they just end up being nearer and nearer than before. Hell, she’s coming back to his grandmother’s home and meeting more of his family. What could be more ironic?
Her hiatus with the Secret Service is starting to toll on her, seizing her mentally and making her think. Making her feel. It’s like there’s a weight inside of her chest, balancing both of her worlds and she’s starting to reconsider which one she’s willing to let go and which one she’s willing to hold on to. She’s been frantic. Haphazard even, with all of her plans against him. But then again, if she really wants to get rid of him, why isn’t she trying harder? Her train of thoughts must’ve resonated with her face, her head slightly leaning on the window. Rio noticed and glanced sideways, finally acknowledging her silence.
“What you thinking?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t look like it’s nothing.”
Beth looked back, observing him; taking in the steady, thoughtful features of his face gazing straight ahead. She welcomed their proximity, just like the way she accepted his grandmother’s invitation. And she welcomed the thought of how she thinks of him at this moment; clear as day, bright as the sun and equal in heat—she recognizes how all the conflict of emotions humanly possible can come from a single person.
Rio noticed her stare, making him smirk. “Stop or I might melt.”
Beth’s eyes widened slightly, like she got caught midway of drinking bourbon during school day by one of the PTA moms. She shrugged it off, but the flush on her cheeks betrayed her.
“What’s that?” Rio asked pointing to the pastel-colored boxes stacked on her lap; the ribbon carefully holding it together.
“Guess.”
He grinned. “I can smell it though.”
“Sure, you do.” Beth replied, placing her hands on the sides of the box and wriggling it slightly. “Guess what kind it is.”
“All of it?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s kinda hard.”
“You have strong senses though.”
“Nah, just one or two.”
Beth reconsidered it. She’s a little pleased at how their conversation turned to something like this; a great shift from silence. She looked at him, pursing her lips. “Okay, better get it right then.”
Rio paused, pursing his lips. Then he spoke. “Do I get a prize?”
Beth huffed, her lips curling upward. “You’ll get one from what’s inside.”
“No point in that ‘cos you’ll be giving it anyways.”
“Fine, what do you want?”
Instinctively, Rio pressed his lips together. He didn’t reply, he let the silence hang as his response. Beth looked away in amusement, seeming to get where he’s getting at. Briefly, she remembers what they did against his grandma’s bookshelves, making them miss dessert.
Beth swallowed, visibly unsettled. She straightened her position, fidgeting in her seat. Rio stifled a grin, who also seems to get the shift in her demeanor.
“I’m just playing, Elizabeth.”
“Yeah, sure you are.”
“Fine, bring ‘em to me.” He said, slowing down a yellow light as they approached an intersection.
Beth untied the ribbon, took out the top box and held it carefully; pausing it in the air, close to Rio’s face. He inhaled the sweet scent of the freshly baked pastries from the side openings, his senses heightened. He narrowed his eyes and began to think, ticking off mentally the choices in his mind; as though he’s scouring through his knowledge of baked goods and desserts like he’s going through an arsenal of guns.
“I can’t tell all of ‘em.”
Beth frowned humorously. “That’s too bad.”
Then Rio caught onto something, his eyes still fixed ahead on the road; his lips parted on the familiar aroma, hunching closer to the box and making Beth stare at him in amusement.
“No you didn’t.”
Beth draws back a bit, confused. “What do you mean?”
“There’s dulce de leche, that I’m sure.”
She nods in encouragement, egging him to continue. “Okay…”
“Yeah, so it must be on some cupcakes.”
Beth hums, “you got that right.”
“O’course I did, I grew up with that stuff.”
“Really?”
He nods, giving a small smile; briefly remembering his childhood. “Yeah, grandma makes ‘em good too.”
She observed his face; Beth saw something in him that drew back, like somehow his features softened amid the sunlight casting through the car window. Instinctively, Beth took note of it—that Rio loves dulce de leche, and how it makes him feel a bit nostalgic. She looked down, still holding the box with much effort. Suddenly, Beth felt something twist inside her. She couldn’t pinpoint the feeling exactly, but she felt a strange wistfulness inside. Her instincts always involve him; either with him or against him, but she finds it scornfully funny because she’s underhandedly fighting him yet just as strongly, just as regretfully powerful, she comes back to him. Just like this. It’s beyond her comprehension, but right now she couldn’t welcome anything else inside her mind, right now that she’s with him and about to be with his family.
Rio noticed the sudden change in her demeanor. Then, Beth lowered her hand; she placed the box back on top and tied the ribbon again carefully.
“Thought I was gonna guess more?”
She managed a smile, the corners of her eyes crinkled. “You got it right already.”
“I just got one right.”
There’s a newfound silence hanging in the air; Rio straightened his shoulders and Beth sat upright, coincidentally in sync with his movements. Then, she reached over to the stereo; pausing her finger in hesitation. She looked at Rio with her expectant eyes that says may I? For a moment, she wondered what kind of songs he listens to; it came to her that beyond work, she doesn’t know a lot about him. And admittedly, she hates how he has more edge over her because he knows her a lot like the back of his hand.
He eyed her, giving a small nod of affirmation. “Go ahead.”
Just as she was about to press the screen, Rio’s bringing out his phone in quick, deft movements with his free hand while the other’s on the steering wheel. He unlocked it with his fingerprint, and handed his phone over to Beth. Initially confused, she cocked her head to the side.
“FM sucks, I have CarPlay.”
Beth made a small ‘o’ shape with her mouth in understanding, and took his phone; briefly brushing her fingers with his. When she looked at the screen, it’s on Spotify.
“What?” Rio said suddenly, taking note of her facial expression as she looked at the screen of his phone. She’s going through his playlists.
“What?” Beth asked back casually, eyes still on his phone—browsing and pausing, her eyes glinting in delight at the diversity of the songs in his playlists. She couldn’t believe how similar their music taste is. From indie to rock, to pop and jazz with selected classical pieces to soul, latin music and even reggae.
“You thought it would be shit, didn’t you?”
She did, honestly. Though music’s subjective, she thought that Rio's preferences would be good but just not alike or similar with what she finds great. But again, it let her down because it's quite in tuned with what she actually likes. She leaned on the headrest, looking at his side.
“No, it’s not that!”
“I know good music too, Elizabeth.”
Unbeknownst to her, she had a playful smile on her face with a hint of surprise and amusement. Rio must’ve seen a slight derision in it. It’s quite ballsy to let someone go through your playlist, considering how music taste could tell a lot about a person. But he doesn’t know why he lets her. He lets Beth in a lot of things; welcomes her even. He didn’t make a big deal out of it in the beginning, candidly handing his phone over. But seeing her reaction, he’s feeling a slight hesitation in not taking it back.
“Hey, don’t go through all of it.” Rio said, slightly frowning.
Beth nibbled her lower lip, a smile still hidden behind it. “Why not? I like your playlists.” She said, matter-of-factly.
Rio paused. “You do?”
She gave a firm nod. Then, she said a truthful admission. “It’s quite similar with mine actually.”
He smirks, his features softening. “Is that right?”
Then, Beth tapped on a song. Her mood boosting immediately, the rhythmic guitar chords of Jimi Hendrix’s All Along the Watchtower ripples through the air. Just as she did, Rio smiled.
Beth closed her eyes, swaying his head with the music; her fingers tapping in tune with the progression of the chords, while Rio’s thumb does the same on the steering wheel.
Rio took a side glance. He couldn’t help the grin creeping in his face; Beth looks so carefree and happy, and she’s feeling it with him.
“You like Jimi Hendrix too, huh?”
Beth opened her eyes, nodding. “Yeah, his songs are an experience. You have to be in the mood for it though.”
Rio agreed. “He plays the guitar like no other.”
Beth thought, putting her finger on her chin. “Eric Clapton’s on par with him.”
Rio titled his head to the side, jutting his chin. She knows her stuff. “Right, can’t disagree on that one.” Immediately, he remembers Eric Clapton’s live performance of ‘Wonderful Tonight’ and it came to him how incredible it was—the mellow, passionate chords matching with the honest lyrics, like it was a love letter in a song.
Then surprising him, Beth spoke his thoughts out loud.
“I said that because Wonderful Tonight’s a really great song.”
Rio pressed his lips together, stifling an incoming smile. “Yeah, you right.” He simply said. The longer they do this, the more they’ll surprise themselves at how attuned they are with each other. Surprisingly, in more ways than one. In more ways they didn’t expect. The thought and realization came at a strange point in their ‘relationship’, but it’s better than if it never had happened at all.
The song is finishing—the pulsating guitar melodies fading in the background. Rio cleared his throat.
“How ‘bout you? What you like besides what’s on my playlists?”
Beth paused momentarily, remembering some of the songs she saw earlier. She shrugged, not giving much thought. “I don’t know, I like all of them.”
He hums, “yeah, you said that earlier.”
She looked down, brushing her thumb on her index finger. Truthfully, her music taste branches out quite far that it depends on her mood what kind she listens to. Well, right now she’s feeling a mix of things which makes it hard for her to pinpoint what song she’s in the mood for.
Then, she thought of one. Immediately, she tapped the searched bar; Beth doesn’t know if he heard this one, but this song manages to draw out her innermost, deepest feelings. It’s the kind of song that makes you feel happy and sad at the same time; the kind of song to get drunk too, but not too drunk; the kind of song you’d listen to when you’re reflecting your feelings in solitude. It’s not the bad kind of tragic but it’s the kind of thoughtful, meaningful sadness that allows you to grow, eventually making you happy.
It's that one song. And boldly, she's allowing Rio to hear it. Giving him a piece of her.
So, Beth clicked on the song and played it. When she heard the first couple of melodies and the familiar raspy, sultry voice, she sinked in her seat. Yeah, this is the one.
The brief drumming enters accompanied by a jazzy melody; then comes Amy Winehouse’s voice singing the first lines of Love is a Losing Game. Instantly, she began to feel a brewing nostalgia.
Rio stayed silent, it’s the first time he heard the song. He listens intently—taking in the melodies, taking note of the lyrics while keeping mind her response to it. His gaze is steady, ahead on the road; he doesn’t look sideways. He doesn’t have to, he can just feel it just as earnestly.
Beth remembers hearing this song for the first time. It came on the radio, not long after Annie called on the phone to tell her that their father passed. She couldn’t describe the kind of sadness she felt that time; she found it unbelievable that you could still feel love despite someone’s absence. Throughout the night she cried. But, she didn’t come to his funeral.
The rift began was when she was a teenager; at such a tender age, she felt love but then she knew of it completely by losing it. She had a deadbeat, absent father and a mother that passed not long before she told her she’d hold on. Marriage felt like she could have something that was deprived from her, something she never had seen in her parents nor even Annie had a better chance to build a good one with Greg. Well, as far as her experience allowed her, it wasn’t much to hold onto. When she thought she had it, she’d lost it just as quickly. Beth wouldn’t be able to tell if it’s real even when it’s under her nose. So much for love, right?
Then again, there comes Rio.
Suddenly, she becomes aware of how the lyrics resonate with her. Not then, but now. How funny and sad; how jeering and just downright pitiful, that when it finally came she’s fighting it. Taking it down, trying to rinse herself off of it. As though she couldn’t accept what she felt, what she went through with Rio. And what she put him through. It felt like her life was just as bleak as the attempt of domesticity her mother showed before her father left, and just as shamefully similar, their marriage came crashing down and not even their children’s love—her and Annie’s—could’ve kept it together.
The combination of all her emotions from the past and present, heightened by the song’s musing melodies began to overwhelm her. Like it was a cue, Rio spoke.
“It’s a great song.” He simply said amid the chorus.
Beth didn’t reply, she just gave a half-hearted nod. She looked at the view outside the window and saw the familiar hardware store, which means they’re getting closer. In around 10 minutes, they’ll be there.
For a moment, Rio thought she wouldn’t reply.
“It’s great but it’s sad.” She professed, her eyes blankly focused ahead at nothing in particular.
He huffed, the corner of his mouth pulling upwards. “You think love’s sad?” He asked lowly.
Beth looked at him. This time, she held her gaze. Her eyelashes fluttered, peering at him. “No, it’s for when it gets lost.”
Rio didn’t respond, he assents by giving a low hum.
Beth entered a part of her life that is slowly reappearing, and it’s happening right now, with him. So, instead of going back, she just let it—a part of her past, an equivalent to a sentiment; something that she hasn’t talked about in a while but she just left buried, unacknowledged and untouched. Something that she hasn’t even opened up to either Ruby nor Annie.
“It reminds me of my parents.” She said out of the blue, her voice gripped by a glimpse of melancholy.
Rio was caught off guard. She barely talks about anything personal; he remembers those brief moments when things were still fine between them—drinking side by side at his bar after work, she’d talked about almost losing her kids and doing some day-drinking. It’s not like she has to, he couldn’t even picture it completely—her honesty—but regardless of the lack of it, he’d never deny her of the opportunity to not be heard, to just want to have someone who’d listen.
“Yeah?” He started, indicating her to go on. That she can continue if she wants.
“Yeah.” Beth replied, simply.
“I…” She continued, taking a breath. She looked at the rearview mirror, Rio catching up then meeting her eyes with his. Briefly, but the glance told him a story. There’s a look of vulnerability, parts of her guard slowly dissolving. He lets her in, again and again, just as what they’re doing now, coming to his grandma’s home; Beth felt like meeting him halfway, even if it’s just for a moment.
“Well, he left when Annie and I were young. I listened to this song after he died. I haven’t seen him for nearly half of my life, then just like that…” She muttered, gesturing with her hand—waving it in the air like she’s dismissing someone. “Gone, with no warning. Permanently.”
She looked at Rio, and in that moment, he wants to hold his gaze to her face, through her eyes and take in her momentary vulnerability. He gripped the steering wheel strongly. Beth continues, “It was, it was just an accident that it came on the radio.”
They came to a brief stop at the red light. Rio looked at her sideways; he breathes out through his nose, an earnest look etched on his face as he listened to her. He gave an understanding nod, letting out a small smile. Rio has many smiles, Beth thought. But this one is one of the first that she noticed had a soft nuance to it, like the smile carried a paragraph of words. She finds it astonishing how quick and easy it is for him to communicate with her by barely even saying nor doing anything.
Admittedly, it’s one of the things that Beth likes about him. He doesn’t overcompensate with words, he just listens. When she’d tell other people something that bothers her or worries her, they’d either comfort her with disingenuous words or coax her with unsolicited advice. But with Rio, he does neither. He just lets her words bite the air, let her release it. Then when she’s done, he’d say a few words but never too little. Never too much either. Just enough, just right.
So there they were—sitting side by side, after the traffic light turned green they advanced nearer and nearer to his grandma’s house. For a moment, Beth felt like reaching out to him. But she knew better, so she wrapped her fingers on the seatbelt and held onto it, leaning slightly on the window.
They became silent again. But this time, it carried a different feel to it because it’s a comfortable silence that they’re sharing. And it even surprised them, how they suddenly found themselves able to connect and share something that they once thought could take a much, much longer time to be possible.
So, simply put, they welcomed it with equal comfort. Internally, they both feel a quiet contentment; a silent truce of getting along.
Finally, they arrived. Rio parked his car in front of his grandma’s house, turning off the ignition. She notices the lines of cars surrounding the house, indicating the presence of many people. Taking off his seatbelt, he opened the door to go out, while Beth followed suit. They walked side by side towards the house, but Rio paused midway and turned to her.
“Hold on, Imma go inside real quick.” He tells her, giving a side nod to the house.
Beth pressed her lips together, slightly bewildered. She still stood there, waiting for Rio to make a move.
Just as he was about to turn, he lowered his head; hunching a bit to meet her face, his eyes narrowing in a mellow gaze. “You should go ahead to the back.”
Beth’s mouth parted, wanting to retort. But then again, she finds it pathetic to feel this flustered and worried like she needs Rio to be by her side. It’s his family, Beth thought; adding that he should accompany her since it’s joining his crowd and she barely knows anyone. She pictures herself in like a fish-out-of-water situation, even though she’s been invited.
Rio saw the expression on her face, making him smile a bit. “It’s alright. They know you around here.”
Before she could ask what he meant by that, he turned towards the door with his hands in his front pockets.
For a moment, Beth just stood there; her chest heaving slightly and her eyes fixed ahead to Rio’s disappearing figure. She could hear the hubbub at the back—people laughing, children shouting merrily accompanied by the sound of their feet running. The noise insinuating a party full of life nearby. Beth hasn’t gone to parties in a long time; and when she goes out to have a bit of fun, it’s usually with Annie or Ruby or both of them.
Fuck it. She thought, letting out a pronounced sigh. If she stands there for a moment longer, the ground might actually swallow her. She advanced towards the pathway leading to the backyard; carefully, she walks with her head down while her hand holds onto the strap of her bag. When she reached the small wooden gate, Beth paused to study the scene in front of her.
There were colorful balloons everywhere—on the ground, on the sides of tables and chairs. An assortment of decorations—paper flowers and rosettes, cut-out patterns and banners, paper fans—welcomed Beth’s line of vision. It’s the most refreshing scenery she’s ever seen, the happiest she’s ever seen people gathered together in one room. Everyone looks like they’re having a good time, talking, conversing, patting each other’s backs and hugging, while some light jazz and blues music plays in the background. Upon tiptoeing, Beth can see the line of food on the center table, making her stomach anticipate, fondly remembering Rosa’s good food.
When she pushed open the gate, Beth saw Rio’s grandmother turn to her direction; immediately seeing her incoming figure, she placed down her wine glass on the table and walked towards her with a smile plastered on her face.
“Beth!” Rosa said, extending her hands.
She took it warmly, matching her hospitality. “Hi!” Beth began to say, immediately she felt comforted by her presence amid the crowd of people who started to look towards their direction.
“Thank you for inviting me again.”
She shook her head, gesturing with her hand; indicating that it’s nothing, that it’s her pleasure. “Come, you must be hungry.”
Indeed. Beth didn’t eat anything before she left except for a cup of coffee. She was supposed to grab a bite after she went to buy some pastries, but Rio unexpectedly showed up at her house to pick her up.
“Yes, very.” She admitted; Rosa’s face brightened, glad that she came to the party with an empty stomach.
“Oh, almost forgot!” Beth added, handing over the boxes of pastries she bought. Internally, she felt a brief moment of worry about how she’d received it since she doesn’t have any idea what to bring. Beth just thought that it would be better to not come empty-handed this time.
Rosa didn’t even notice the boxes she was carrying, so when Beth gave it to her, a mild look of surprise appeared on her face followed by a small smile that showed creases on the corners of her eyes. She took it and said “thank you.”
Rio hasn’t came back for some time. There’s probably people inside the house that he’s catching up with. When she walked over to the center table, Beth was greeted cordially by the people surrounding it. It made her feel a mix of relief, joy and confusion because obviously, they are strangers but the way they approached her just seemed warm and welcoming. The thought passed over her again about what Rio said earlier that they know her. But how could such a big family know of her that quickly?
Rosa came to her side again, asking her to try some dishes. She pointed this and that, slightly overwhelming Beth. “Oh, try this too. It’s chile verde, but it’s a bit spicy.”
Beth reached for it, nudging the enchilada on her plate with her spoon to make more room. Rosa’s gaze went over her shoulder; when Beth turned to glance, Rio was walking towards them and he stood behind her.
He placed his hand on Beth’s shoulder, lightly circling his fingers on it. He eyed her plate satisfactorily and looked back to his grandmother; they gave each other an understanding look that says I know, she loves it.
“It’s like fuckin’ Cinco de Mayo in here.” Rio said, lowering his hand on Beth’s arm. Then, he proceeded to grab a plate with the other.
“Christopher. Language.” His grandmother said sternly. Rio pressed his lips together, raising a hand like a surrender.
“Have you gone to see Carlo?” She asked him.
“Yeah, I went inside. He had this scowl on his face, you know how he hates parties especially when it’s ‘bout him.” Rio said, chuckling at the end.
“Well, 5 years is a long time to not see your grandson.” Rosa replied, letting a breath out of her nose. “He loves this though, secretly. The attention and all.”
Rio shrugged. “Maybe.” He followed in reconsideration. “If you had a piñata with loads of big ones in it, he’d enjoy that.”
Rosa laughed, placing a hand on her chest. She made a ‘tsk tsk’ with her tongue, then turned to walk away. He looked back to Beth, who seemed to be enjoying herself. Her plate’s nearly overcrowded which made Rio grin.
“Carlo’s my cousin. Man of the hour but ain’t the life of the party.” He told Beth, filling her in. She nods in understanding.
Her eyes caught a plate of sopaipillas that’s sitting on the side of the table and there’s only a few pieces left. She made a grab for it; instinctively, instead of putting it on her plate, she put it in her mouth. Just one bite made her close her eyes in appreciation.
“You like ‘em?” Rio asked, who also looks pleased by everything.
Beth, who’s still chewing a mouthful of food, looked at him with raised cheeks and hummed in response. She swallowed the food contentedly, it made her feel nice to eat food someone made with passion, coming from her—a mom—who’s always the one to prepare and cook for others.
She licked the grains of sugar and honey from her fingers. Then, Rio gestured to the side of her mouth—telling her that there’s still sugar and honey there.
Beth tried to rub it off with the back of her hand, but there were still some sugar left and a bit of the sticky honey that stayed.
Casually, Rio licked his thumb and swiped it away from the corners of her lips. Taken aback, Beth froze and couldn’t react. It’s like her impulses matched the environment—surrounded by everything that’s a part of him—and she couldn’t find herself to move away when she’s this close to him.
So, instead of backing away or flinching from his sudden proximity. Beth managed a half smile, and asked him “is it gone?”
“Yeah.”
Then, turning back like nothing happened, Rio indicated towards the tables and chairs with a jerk of his head—sitting around it are his immediate family and friends, with Rosa sitting at the head of the table. Some of them were actually observing them both, and upon the indication that they’re coming towards the table, they turned away to resume talking and eating.
They sat down. Rio sat adjacent to his grandmother while Beth sat beside him. Their presence—individually and together—made an evident shift in the atmosphere around the table, like gravity changed. Beth’s arrival caused inquisitive smiles on the faces of Rio’s tíos and tías. One of them actually cleared her throat.
Sitting a seat away from Beth, a plump woman with musing, wide-set eyes hunched over, turning her face to her.
“Hello! You must be Beth.”
She heard her amid the lively atmosphere, so she made an effort and leaned sideways to meet her gaze. When Rio said that they know her, he actually wasn’t lying.
Beth nods to her, lifting her hand to her mouth as she chewed on her food. “Yeah, hi.”
Then, the woman suddenly jutted out a hand to her, “nice to meet you, I’m Alma, Christopher’s tía.” The sudden extension of her hand made the girl sitting between them flinch in surprise—who was about to put a spoonful of food in her mouth—made her drop the food, spilling some on the table.
In equal geniality, Beth took it halfway and shook it. Alma held it a bit longer, Rio took notice and he let out a sigh. He knows it’s about to start. Rosa gave her a grave look with her eyes that say don’t be too obvious, Alma.
What follows Alma’s initiation were a series of inquisitive glances from others at the table. Then some started small talk with Beth, while others began joining in. Surprisingly, Beth didn’t shy away (the glass of wine might’ve helped too) and she began to converse with them across the table in the same fervor and enthusiasm; along the way, she almost forgot about the food in front of her.
Rio eyed her sideways, catching the sight of her lips curling upward into a smile. Naturally it came to him, the feeling of contentment to see her carefree, her guard slightly down which is a big deal since she’s with him. If this is the kind of setting that could ground her like this when she’s around him, then he wouldn’t mind throwing the idea to his grandma about having parties and cook-outs every now and then.
Then a man sitting opposite Alma, one of Rio’s tíos named Manuel, started to tell Beth a story about Rio when he was a child. It was when he got into a fight with his classmate after school; the kid couldn’t accept that Rio won their bike race, so he bullied him. They brawled so hard that they tripped over the curb, falling on the ground. But Rio was more unlucky because he landed on a pile of dog poop. Instantly, the fight they had was long forgotten.
“…dog shit all over his ass!” Manuel exclaimed, his playful smile nearly reaching his ears as he placed a hand down on the table in amusement.
Beth, who was so invested in the story, threw her head back in laughter at the turn of events. Rio leaned to the table, propping his chin on his hand and closing his eyes in dismay.
She coughed, placing a hand on her chest. Beth couldn’t stop herself from picturing a humiliated, defeated young Rio doing the walk of shame as he went home with shit on his butt. Funny enough, it wasn’t too hard for her imagination to help her in the imagery. Her giggle accelerated. Then she saw Rio’s displeased reaction, making her press her lips together to hold back the laughter.
“It’s fine, Rio. It was for a good cause.” Beth told him, gesturing with her hand like a sweep of never mind, it’s all fun. Rio took her words with a wry expression on his face, though internally he is amused that she’s amused at the expense of an embarrassing memory from his childhood.
“Would you like some more wine, Beth?” Rosa intervened, holding the bottle mid-air. Beth said a ‘yes’ then she poured her more, almost more than half the glass. She began to take a sip of the red wine, cleansing her palate.
Then, Alma stepped in again. “So…How long have you two been together?”
Beth choked on the wine, causing some to drop on the front of her dress. Rio maintained his composure, a sober look on his face. But, his lips pulled to a smirk when he eyed Beth’s reaction.
Rosa tilted her head to Alma, her mouth hang open and a look of disbelief showed on her face. She narrowed her eyes at her bluntness. Some of the others became silent, observing the sudden turn of the conversation.
Beth didn’t answer, she merely looked over Alma’s shoulder. Then instinctively, she looked to Rio for help. Her eyes said something like it’s your turn.
Instead of what she expected, like his keen reasoning or a curt retort, Rio replied casually. “A year.”
Beth cocked her head to the side, looking at him in bewilderment. What are you doing? Contrasting her features, Rio looked back to her with a straight face.
He just had to say it, to say something that his tía would want to hear so that she’d shut up about it. Sometimes, saying something unexpected could simplify a conversation.
Rosa, who’s also roused by his response, raised her brow; holding her wine glass mid-air and pausing with piqued curiosity.
Alma made an ‘o’ shape with her mouth, nodding her head contentedly. “How lovely!” She followed, her tone going up cheerily.
Afterwards, the table reverted back to eating; some had their own conversations, nodding vigorously at each other’s remarks and the great taste of the food. Then came dessert. Some left the table to get more food, while others stood up to join people from other tables to catch up. Rosa also went back to the kitchen to refill the half-empty serving dishes and bowls.
Then, Rio turned around and saw someone, meeting the woman’s gaze from a couple of tables away. He began to stand up, and paused midway. “You good?” He asked Beth, like he’s implying for a say-so if it’s okay for him to leave her on her own for a while.
Beth nodded, raising her glass. “Yeah, just finishing it.”
"Okay." Rio nods; turning his back, he advances towards a familiar face that he hasn't seen in a while, meeting the woman's excited face in equal delight.