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Gwen was a lot of things.
She sang like an angel. She danced like she didn’t have bones. She could sleep anywhere, anytime, under any circumstance, including during a typhoon warning.
But she was not, under any circumstances, a magician.
So when Maloi put a single crisp 500-peso bill on the dining table like she was presenting a royal decree, Gwen already felt her soul leaving her body.
“There.” Maloi crossed her arms, looking way too pleased with herself. “Budget for our Noche Buena.”
Gwen blinked at the bill, then at her girlfriend, then at the bill again.
“…Ano ‘to? Pamasahe?”
“No. That is the entire budget.”
“Maloi,” Gwen said, voice trembling with the kind of pain that only the economy could cause. “Mahal. My love. My universe. My baby cupcake sugarplum. Are you… are you being serious?”
“Yes,” Maloi said proudly. “I saw the news. DTI said you can make a simple Noche Buena with 500 pesos. So I want to challenge us to do it. Para tipid. Para practical. Para—”
“Para mag-break tayo today?” Gwen cut in.
Maloi gasped dramatically. “Hoy! I thought you love me?”
“I do,” Gwen groaned. “But you’re asking me to fight inflation with a single yellow bill. Wala akong laban dito.”
Maloi marched to her, clasped Gwen’s cheeks, and squished them like she was molding siopao dough. “Gwen. I believe in you. If anyone can do the impossible, ikaw ‘yon.”
Gwen tried to speak, but her cheeks were still in captivity. “Ih dhoh—”
Maloi let go.
“I don’t know if I should feel flattered or exploited.”
“It’s love,” Maloi said cheerfully. “And anyway, you’re better at grocery shopping. So go na. Please? For us. For Christmas. For the vibes.”
Gwen glared, but her weakness for Maloi’s bambi eyes was stronger than her will to fight.
“Fine,” she grumbled. “Pero if I cry inside the supermarket, kasalanan mo.”
Maloi kissed her cheek. “I’ll kiss your tears later.”
Gwen groaned again, mostly at how effective that was.
“Akin na ‘yung eco bag.”
++++
The supermarket entrance doors slid open and greeted Gwen like two gates inviting her to the Underworld. She clutched Maloi’s 500-peso bill like a warrior.
“Okay,” she whispered to herself. “Game face.”
She looked around. Christmas songs blasted overhead. Trolleys zoomed past. People were buying queso de bola like they were preparing for a cheese apocalypse.
Gwen dragged a hand down her face. “Lord, if you love me, make everything 50 percent off today.”
The Lord did not, in fact, love her enough for that.
She grabbed a basket and walked to the pasta aisle.
Spaghetti noodles:
Ranging from 79 to 120 pesos.
“Hmmm,” Gwen muttered. “P’wede na.”
Spaghetti sauce:
60 to 90.
“Okay,” she whispered. “We’re still alive.”
Hotdogs:
Gwen froze. “Why are these prices acting like they passed board exams?”
The cheapest option was 89 pesos.
Gwen nearly hissed.
Cheese:
Gwen made the sign of the cross. 120 pesos for the brand Maloi liked.
“No,” she whispered. “I refuse to give up this soon.”
She circled the dairy aisle three times. She found a tiny block of generic cheese for 45 pesos.
“Okay na ‘to, Gwen. Improvise ka na lang. The sacrifice is noted.”
Her basket slowly filled, and so did her despair.
She checked her running total using the calculator on her phone.
Spaghetti noodles – 79
Sauce – 66
Hotdogs – 89
Cheese – 45
Canned fruit cocktail – 92
All-purpose cream – 32
Total: 403 pesos.
“You know what,” Gwen whispered, “maybe DTI meant 500 pesos per dish, not 500 pesos for everything.”
She needed bread. She needed ham. She needed something that didn’t taste like sadness.
But when she reached the deli section and saw the price of ham, she felt her soul preparing for ascension.
The cheapest “ham” (quotation marks intentional) was 185 pesos.
Her remaining money: 97 pesos.
Her hopes: terminally ill.
Gwen stared at the ham package, and the ham package stared back like it knew her deepest shame.
“Maloi, mahal na mahal kita,” Gwen muttered. “Pero hindi ako martyr.”
She grabbed the ham anyway.
Her total passed 500 immediately. She could feel a tear forming.
“Nope,” Gwen whispered, swallowing the drama. “Not today. We power through. We embrace debt. We swipe.”
And sure enough, as she lined up at the cashier, she pulled out her own credit card like a warrior drawing her last weapon.
When the cashier read the total, Gwen considered walking into traffic.
She paid silently, mournfully, like she was offering herself in sacrifice for the good of humanity.
As she put the groceries in her eco bag, she whispered, “Ayan, Maloi. For love. For Christmas.”
++++
By the time she arrived home, she looked like she had fought both inflation and her will to live.
Maloi rushed to the door excitedly. “Kamusta? Did you manage it? Did you make magic?”
Gwen dropped the eco bag dramatically on the table.
“No. The only magic there was watching prices multiply like bacteria.”
Maloi rifled through the groceries. “Ooh! May pang-fruit salad pa tayo! Galing mo naman!”
“Mali.” Gwen crossed her arms. “Galing ng credit card ko.”
Maloi froze. “Wait. You went over the budget?”
“Maloi,” Gwen said, voice tired, eyes hollow, “the ham alone was already almost half the budget.”
“But sabi ng DTI—”
“If you say that DTI shit again,” Gwen warned, “I swear I will throw that fruit cocktail out the window.”
Maloi shut her mouth quickly.
Gwen sat down and slumped in defeat. “I tried, okay? I swear I tried. But unless we’re having Noche Buena na tubig at dasal lang, 500 pesos is not enough.”
Maloi approached her carefully, like Gwen was a cat sitting on a landmine.
“Hey…” She slid an arm around Gwen’s shoulders. “Thank you. I know nakakapagod mag-grocery ngayon. And I appreciate you… sobra.”
Gwen tilted her head and sighed dramatically into Maloi’s chest. “You owe me. Big time. Like, multiple kisses, one foot massage, and control of the TV tonight.”
“All of that,” Maloi promised. “And more.”
Gwen softened just a little. “Good.”
Maloi kissed her cheek. “Next time, tayo na sabay mag-grocery. Para I can see the price tags and suffer with you.”
“You better,” Gwen muttered. “I refuse to die alone in aisle four.”
++++
Despite the earlier financial trauma, Gwen still cooked like a champ.
Spaghetti? Perfect.
Fruit salad? Cold and creamy.
Ham? Slightly depressing but tasted fine.
Maloi hovered behind her the whole time, tiptoeing, arms around Gwen’s waist, chin on her shoulder.
“Ang galing-galing ng baby ko,” she cooed.
“Stop.” Gwen blushed. “Nakakahiya.”
“Nope.” Maloi kissed her neck. “I’m gonna shower you with praise kasi you actually managed Noche Buena na hindi naubos ang pera natin.”
“Again,” Gwen corrected, “utang sa card ko ‘to.”
“Ssshhh.” Maloi squeezed her. “Details.”
++++
They set up the table beautifully.
Little fairy lights.
Cheap but cute candles.
A mini charcuterie board.
Maloi clasped her hands together. “Merry almost-Christmas, my love!”
Gwen snorted. “Merry never-again-500-pesos challenge.”
They ate, laughed, teased each other, and fought over who got the last piece of hotdog. Gwen fed Maloi a forkful of spaghetti, and Maloi gave her the creamier part of the fruit salad as a peace offering.
The meal was simple, but it felt warm and cozy and right.
Halfway through dinner, Maloi reached across the table and grabbed Gwen’s hand.
“Next year,” she said softly, “I won’t give you 500 pesos. I’ll give you a real budget. Promise.”
“What’s a real budget?” Gwen teased. “600?”
“Hey!” Maloi pretended to be offended. “I’ll give you… mga ano… one thousand.”
“Wow.” Gwen gasped dramatically. “Inflation who?”
Maloi laughed. “Okay fine. Mas mataas. Whatever you need. We’ll plan together.”
Gwen squeezed her hand. “Good. Because I want us to have good Noche Buenas together. Every year. Kahit hindi bongga. Basta kasama kita.”
Maloi’s ears turned red. “Same.”
Then Maloi leaned across the table and kissed her, soft and slow, like she had all the time in the world.
When she pulled back, Gwen whispered, “For the record, you still owe me kisses.”
Maloi smirked. “Oh don’t worry. I’m paying in full tonight.”
“You better,” Gwen said, tugging her closer. “Because that grocery trip took years off my life.”
++++
After dinner, Maloi picked up the receipt from the eco bag.
She read the total.
She blinked.
She looked at Gwen.
Then back at the receipt.
“Hindi pala talaga sakto ang 500, ‘no?” she croaked.
Gwen sipped her juice like a queen. “Yup. Merry Christmas.”
“Gwen…”
“Yes?”
“I think… I think I need to sit down.”
“You’re already sitting down.”
“I think I need to sit down more.”
Gwen bit her lip, trying not to laugh. “Next time, love?”
“What?”
“You’re holding the basket.”
Maloi nodded weakly. “Yes. I will suffer with you.”
Gwen kissed her forehead. “Good girl.”
Maloi blushed. “Gwen…”
“Yes?”
“I love you. And your credit card.”
Gwen laughed until she had tears in her eyes.
And in that tiny condo unit, with cheap ham, chaotic fruit salad, and a grocery bill that refused to cooperate with reality, their Christmas felt perfect anyway.