Chapter 15 Φ

Eric and I had stayed at the beach for a few more hours, arranging to meet up with Natalie and her boyfriend later on. When we got up to gather our things, Eric carried the small cooler in one hand, offering the other to me. I laced my fingers with his, feeling warmth on my cheeks.

It was quite a distance back to where Eric had left his car. There were only a few people left on the beach area, and a group of friends who were surfing at night.

We walked in silence for a while, and I would catch him staring at me from time to time. But it was different—the way he looked at me now. There was fondness and affection in his eyes. He never looked at me like this before, and I guessed what had happened between us had changed it.

"Are you happy?" I quietly asked him.

"Yes," he answered. "You?"

I gave it a thought, before I smiled and said, "For the first time in a while."

"Then I'm glad," Eric replied.

I smiled. "There's just something that I don't understand."

"What is it?"

"It's just off. I haven't even introduced you to them, and yet you were there, asking for my aunt's permission." It really bothered me. There was something else in my mind—one that even I couldn't comprehend yet, but I didn't voice it out. I just said to him, "I also don't understand why Aunt Coral insisted that you and Nat were dating."

Eric didn't answer for a while.

I wanted to trust Eric. It was true that he felt right to me, everything about him. But if I read much into what had happened earlier today, I would consider a thought that would seem almost impossible, even if there were signs that it could be going on.

It honestly felt like the three of them weren't strangers. There was a story that I didn't know about. But, what? Why did it feel like Aunt Coral didn't approve of Eric and me going out, like any other people out there? Why did Natalie have to make it seem like it was only because my feeling was mutual with Eric's that she was giving her permission to him?

What did Eric do, let's say for the span of a few weeks since I'd last seen him, that made Aunt Coral and Natalie act that way towards him?

After a while, he spoke, "Can we talk about it some other day?"

"Is there a reason why you can't tell me now?" I carefully asked him back.

"I want this night to be as it is," Eric asked of me, in almost a whisper. "I don't want to ruin it."

"Okay," I said, agreeing for now. I could ask Natalie, but I settled on hearing the truth from him. Whenver he was ready, I had decided.

***

"Hey there," Natalie said as we were approaching her. She was waiting near the 24-hour convenience store, which was where Eric's car was parked.

"So you were just testing us? All these weird things that happened today?" I disbelievingly asked her.

"I had to make sure," Natalie replied, giving me a nod, before her eyes shifted to Eric. She stared at him, in such a way that I suddenly fell silent and nervous.

"Is everything all right?" I asked, apprehensive.

"Of course," Natalie replied in a low voice.

"Good," I said, observing them. Okay, one night. Tomorrow would be another story. Maybe it would really be a shame to hurt a perfect day. And then remembering that Eric had mentioned that Natalie was with her boyfriend, I changed the topic, "So where is he, Nat? Your boyfriend. You had me there. You never really broke up, didn't you?"

"Yes," Natalie said, giggling. "He's just getting something from his car. He'll be here."

"Anna, he's actually—" Eric was about to say something, when another familiar person came in sight.

"Hello!" He was walking right to us, juggling his keys in his palm.

"I know him..." I muttered under my breath.

"Eric! Good to see you here," Zander went over to greet Eric, and they did a makeshift high five.

"You..." I said in confusion, looking at Zander, who was also staring at me. There was no surprise on his face. He had expected this to happen. Why was I the only one feeling completely left out?

Zander casually greeted me, "Hi, Chelsea."

"Why?" I heard myself asking him, feeling a bit guarded.

With an embarrassed smile, he quietly said, "Can I just tell you that this is the part when I inform you that I know both Nat and Eric?"

"I have no idea that you're all acquainted with each other," I told them.

Natalie went to Zander's side, affectionately resting her head on his shoulder. "He's my boyfriend, Anna. I'm finally introducing him to you."

"And also my good friend," Eric added.

Zander further explained, "I'm Eric's senior in law school, just to finish off all the introductions. Chelsea must be really confused right now. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you earlier."

"Why do you keep on calling her Chelsea?" Natalie asked him, a little puzzled.

"I met her this morning," Zander replied.

"Really?"

He explained it to Natalie, "I handed her some documents about a scholarship. Chelsea was supposed to meet my dad, but he couldn't make it. He's a bit under the weather today."

"I hope your dad will feel better soon," Natalie replied, comforting him.

"Thanks," Zander replied.

"And Anna," Natalie said, turning her attention to me. She took my hand in hers. "I'm glad that you've finally got a scholarship."

"I haven't applied yet," I replied.

"You'll get it, for sure," Natalie answered with confidence.

"Thanks," I replied, feeling a bit shy.

From the side of my eyes, I watched as Eric and Zander talked about a class that they were both taking this semester. The two of them were good friends from what I could see. They made it feel like the world was so small that we were all here, talking and had known each other in one way or another.

***

Later that night, we all grabbed some late dinner. Our stories were endless. The four of us had a rhythm; maybe it was because we'd been friends in between.

I'd heard about the things I'd missed ever since Natalie and Zander started going out. I'd finally came to know that after meeting each other for the first time at the Lantern Festival earlier this summer, Zander and Natalie saw each other once or twice a week, and mostly, it was Zander who went here to Averns Creek. He came here to visit both his father and Natalie. She was the reason why Zander's family had heard about this place and its quiet beach, and that was why Zander's father had ended up going here after his surgery to recover.

It was Zander who took Eric with him to the Lantern Festival. That was why we'd met.

Natalie had yet to come to New Waulds. We had invited her, of course. She said that she would think about it.

It was a perfect night indeed. Come midnight and we were driving around my small hometown with the windows down.

It was probably the first time since my mother's death that I had enjoyed being here in Averns Creek. If I would look past all the questions in my head and focus on what I was feeling deep down in my heart, everything was in its right place.

This happiness—for once, it felt like it would stay.

***

When the next day came, Eric and I headed back to New Waulds. I briefly said goodbye to Aunt Coral, who couldn't hide the regret in her eyes when she saw that Eric and I were together. She didn't say a word about it, but she didn't acknowledge us, either. Aunt Coral only pulled me into a tight embrace and told me to take care of myself out there.

I felt a bit greedy about this happiness that I didn't ask about it, too. Not a question had been raised to my aunt, Natalie, or even Eric. Nobody said a word, like they'd finally let me in the story that they had hidden from me, only that I didn't know what it was.

But with the thought that I might lose this happiness if I knew what could be behind all this, I went along and pretended that everything was okay. Perhaps, I even believed that if time would pass and we'd let it be, whatever was going on would be insignificant.

***

I checked our loft's mailbox again. Aside from utility bills, there was nothing else.

For the next few months since I'd gotten back from Averns Creek, the letters had stopped coming. I only received a check for my allowance.

The first time it happened, I thought that maybe Mr. Steve was busy and he only forgot about it. I cheerfully composed a letter for him, telling him about the scholarship, my short trip back to my hometown and the things happening in my workplace. At first, I omitted the part wherein Eric and I started dating.

There was no reply.

The following month, it had happened again. A check had arrived, but there was no letter from Mr. Steve.

This was when I'd started to worry if I had done something wrong, which made him stop communicating with me. I kept on peering back into my memory if I had said something on my last letter, before he refrained from replying to me altogether. I couldn't recall anything that could have had been the reason.

On the second month after receiving my allowance, I gave him the benefit of the doubt and created another letter. I told him that I'd been dating Eric for over a month now. I thought that this would get him intrigued, maybe enough for him to take a little bit from his time and send me a reply.

Nothing.

That was when I got worried that something had happened to him. I didn't want to think about it; there were those checks. But more than the allowance, I needed his letters more. He'd been my friend and confidant through the years, and his sudden absence from my life had caught me unprepared.

Since there was really no way to know and all I could do was wait until I would know his reason, I kept on mailing a few more letters to him. But days had passed, and our mailbox remained empty.

I went on with my daily routine. I spent so much time at work lately, often having to do overtime. The customers tripled, especially during exam week.

Aside from that, I also got busy after Eric and I started dating. We usually saw each other at night to have dinner together if he didn't have evening classes or I got off early from work. I would laugh and talk with him for hours, make myself busy. During those weekends when it was my day off, Eric would take me out of town, usually somewhere near the beach.

I thought it was enough—all these distractions—until I got back to my room at the loft and stared at the ceiling, thinking about what could have happened to Mr. Steve. As long as he was okay, maybe I could accept that he would no longer answer my letters. I would ask him why. But if he wouldn't give me an answer, I could live with that, just as long as he was all right.

"Hey, their orders are ready." Julianne pointed to the cold drinks that she had placed in front of me.

"Oh, right," I muttered, looking at the labels. "Two taro milk tea for Meg!"

I called the customer's name again twice before she approached the counter. She said, "It's Mia."

Checking twice that this was the correct order, I plastered a smile on my face and said, "I'm sorry about that. Have a great day, Mia!"

She smiled back, a bit understanding of the situation in front of the counter—there were no less than ten people waiting for their orders to be called.

This happened for the following hours. Tim said during our break that he would probably have coffee nightmares when he'd go to sleep. I agreed with him. I'd probably be calling random customer names when I hit the bed.

Near closing time, the number of customers had eased up. We were able to stretch a little bit and rest our tired legs by leaning against the counter.

Julianne went over to the counter next to me, noticing, "You seemed to be upset lately."

"It's nothing," I told her with a reassuring smile. Julianne was good at that—observing people around her. Cassie hadn't even sensed it, because I kept my worries to myself as much as I could help it.

Shortly after, the door opened and Julianne's boyfriend, Brent, came in, smiling briefly at us before taking a seat on the couch. He placed his helmet on the couch beside him, browsing on his phone. Brent was also from NWU, same major as Julianne.

"He's picking me up. Can you get Cassie's yogurt on your way back?" she asked me.

"No problem," I replied.

When our shift had ended, Julianne left with her boyfriend. I waved goodbye as they sped up on a motorbike at the almost bare street of New Waulds at this hour.

It was past ten in the evening, and Gina was the only one left inside the café. She was finishing the inventory of supplies.

I crossed the street and hurriedly placed another letter inside Mr. Steve's mailbox. I did this every night, as I awaited his reply, whether it would still be coming or not.

After that, I headed to the bus stop. The next bus would arrive in twenty minutes, so I searched for my phone inside my bag. I dug deep, unable to find it.

I used a backpack these days, and I hadn't cleaned my bag in a while. I went over the heaps of receipts and other things that were inside my bag, but my phone was missing. It was then I remembered that I left it inside my locker, because Julianne asked if I could zip up her dress for her.

Checking my watch, I saw that I still had fifteen minutes to go back before the bus arrived. That was enough time to get back to the café, so I sprinted for it.

Gina was still inside when I got there, with pop music blasting on the speakers, which could be heard if you were standing right outside the door. She locked the front door, so I had to knock a few times before she had heard it.

"What are you still doing here?" Gina asked after she unlocked the glass door for me.

"I forgot my phone," I quickly replied, before heading to the locker room.

"Hurry up. Your bus will be leaving in six minutes," Gina called.

"Found it!" I reappeared from the locker room, showing her my worn-out phone.

"Go or you'll miss the bus," Gina said, opening the door for me.

As I was about to step outside, I asked her, "Did you finish the inventory?"

"About to," she answered. "Don't worry about me. I've got my car."

"Oh, okay. I'll see you on Monday!" I said, waving goodbye to her. She nodded, locking the front door again as she went back inside the stockroom.

But as I turned around to cross the street, I unexpectedly saw a figure in front of Mr. Steve's house. I thought I was only seeing things, but there was really someone there.

Since it was already dark and the streetlight was a little far from where I'd seen him, I only caught a silhouette of a man who was wearing a baseball cap. He took out something from Mr. Steve's mailbox—a familiar letter—and placed it inside his jacket.

I trembled in shock, staring at the figure. That same stance and a baseball cap on his head. The only difference was the absence of the cane and his straight walk.

What should I do? He was standing only a couple of yards away from me. I was aware that he didn't want to see me, but he still bothered to get my letters, even if his silence had been a question lately.

I watched as he pulled down his cap, before he started walking away. If I would go after him, I would finally know my benefactor's identity.

I had missed my bus altogether as I went ahead and risked it all. I kept my distance, but enough for me not to lose sight of him.

When he got past four blocks from the intersection, I saw him jerk his head back a little. I couldn't see his face, but he must have heard that someone was behind him.

His quickened his footsteps, and I was almost running behind him, refusing to let go of this opportunity. This might not happen again if I'd give up now. This was everything I'd wanted, and I had waited long enough to finally see him. My heart pounded in my chest at the very thought of meeting him. It was scary and blissful at the same time.

As I caught on to him when he turned around the corner, I saw a glimpse of him entering the premises of a hotel. The hotel guard quickly bowed his head in greetings as soon as he entered the door.

I stopped on my tracks, catching my breath. I'd been here once, when Eric's father called him while we were on a date. He said to come right away because of an important matter. When Eric had dropped the call, I sensed that things between him and his dad weren't okay. He was guarded and his body tensed when he was talking to him.

And with an apologetic smile, which I understood, Eric had brought me here and told me told me to wait at the hotel's restaurant. It was also when I'd found out that his father owned the place and a few more establishments in the vicinity. He got me settled in the restaurant, and I ordered coffee while waiting.

It would only take a while, he said.

Eric came down an hour and a half later. And without so much as a word, he took my hand and we went out of the hotel. I remembered that day, because it was hard to forget the hardened expression on his face and the small cut on his left cheek after meeting his dad.

I stood in front of the hotel's entrance. Speculations flooded over me, but I told myself that it couldn't be. I shook my head, convincing myself that it was only a coincidence that Mr. Steve was staying at this hotel.

Was he?

What were the chances that Mr. Steve was related to Eric? I couldn't bring myself to even think about it.

I was about to turn around and call for a cab when I accidentally bumped into someone, which made him drop his briefcase.

"I'm so sorry," I said, feeling embarrassed as I also bent down to pick up his briefcase and hand it back to him.

The man managed to get it first, but I caught a glimpse of the word embedded on the gold lock—Davis.

Before I could even say another word, we were surrounded by hotel guards in an instant, placing a distance from me and the man.

"Everything's fine," the man said, raising a hand. His secretary had arrived, and the man handed him his briefcase. I slowly looked up to him, meeting his eyes. I couldn't help but notice his resemblance to Eric. "Are you okay, miss?"

"Yes," I absent-mindedly replied.

The slightest visible line formed in between his brows, before he flashed me a polite smile. After that, the man went inside the hotel, accompanied by a couple of guards and his secretary.

Without thinking, I followed him, which made several heads turn when the guards encircled me. The man's secretary whispered what was going on to him, and he turned around.

"I just want to ask you something," I called out to him from a distance.

"Let her," the man said.

When the guards paved way for me, while still watching my every move, I slowly walked to the man. I wasn't sure what I really wanted to ask, so I said instead, "Can I see Eric? I'm his friend and I have something important to tell him."

"Don't you have his number?"

"I don't have my cellphone with me," I replied.

He looked over his secretary. "Is my son here?"

The secretary made a call, before confirming, "He's in his room."

Mr. Davis didn't look at me again, instead he directed his order to his secretary. "Lead her to my office."