After almost flying for fifteen hours we arrived in Madrid. I never felt more safe when we touched down in the airport. Andres will fly to California in a day or two to be with his family. Mateo gave us an address of the house that he arranged for us. He said that it wasn't as big as ours but it will work.

Andres and I reached our new house before noon and it looked like an ordinary Spanish house in the village. I saw Camila knitting by the porch when we arrived. She called for our children when she saw us by the gate.

"Pancho! You made it!" She said.

"Hush now. I made it out. I told you I'll be with you." I replied. The children went out and welcomed me and Andres on our new home.

"We thought that something happened to you. My sister called me and told me the bad news. I thought you wouldn't make it." She said, still in disbelief that I arrived in Madrid safely.

We didn't have household staff to wait on us now because it's expensive and we need to live here for a long time. It was a good thing because the kids were designated with different household tasks. Camila and Bela were responsible for the food, sometimes Alfonso helped them too. While Charlie is the man of the house and he tried learning technical skills to fix minor house problems.

"We made it. But I think that after we disappeared, they will have stricter protocols and stricter detaining methods. Too bad for those who hasn't escaped yet." Andres said.

"It's a phase, it will pass. It will pass." Camila replied.

"So, the kids will be studying here in September, I hope that they will accept Charlie and Bela. I can arrange to make them take the qualification exams by next week and Alfonso can go to an English middle school." I said.

Camila later called us all for lunch that she and Bela prepared. It wasn't as festive as it used to be but at least there's something on the table.

I saw a beautiful painting hanging by the dining table. Did Camila got this? It was a painting of the view from Andres' beach house in Batangas.

"Did you paint this, Camila?" I asked her. Then she smiled and said no.

"I painted it, papa." Alfonso said. When Alfonso was young I knew that he can draw, but I didn't know that he can paint a beautiful landscape.

"Well Pancho, you're the only one in this family who can't do art." Andres said. Then everyone laughed.

"Charlie, and Bela can't paint too." I replied. Then Charlie and Bela pointed at the drawings they made.

"Papa, the woman in the dress? I made it." Bela said.

"The cars by the fireplace papa? I made it. Something to remind us of who we were before we lived here."

"See. I told you. You're the only one who can't paint." Andres joked again. Then we all laughed. I've never seen my family like this in a very long time, and all their faces looked priceless.

Andres left two days after he arrived here. He flew to Los Angeles to be with his family. We said our goodbyes and wished to see him again. My kids loved him too and they were sad to see him leave.

"Papa, I hope that we'll live like how we used to in Manila in the future." Alfonso said.

"I hope so too. Alfonso." I replied.

1985. Los Angeles USA. 

Its been ten years since we left Manila and our lives couldn't be better. I got a job in the embassy again as a consultant, and did some volunteer work for international human rights cases. 

Andres got a job as an architecture professor in UCLA not long after he settled there with his family. So in 1980's he invited us all on a Christmas Holiday in Los Angeles. It was my first time to see máma again after more than five years.

Charlie finished his international law studies in Universidad de Madrid and is dating a Spaniard woman from his class named Sofia. What a smart girl she is. She finished top of their class while Charlie barely made it to the top 5. Well it's fine with me and that same year he moved out of our house and lived in Barcelona. He never failed to call us every week when he can and told us about his work and his new life, living like a true Spaniard. I don't know if he still wants to return to Manila.

Bela just took her internship in a big fashion house in Paris. She said that her business skills had helped her boost the sales of a newly revived fashion brand from the '50s. Camila was delighted that Schiaparelli will be in business again. She said that when we return to Manila, she hopes to bring the fashion labels with her too. She is now in the talks with a brand to partner with a department store in Manila. Alfonso is the only one left who lives with us and is currently taking up architecture just like Andres in the same school as Charlie.

I am so happy to see my children again. We all flew to LA feeling all excited because this is the first reunion we'll have in ages. I don't know if it's just me or the children also felt the same way.

Andres got a log cabin somewhere in northern California near Oregon, a ski resort with rooms enough for our big family. I saw máma all wrapped up in her jacket and was sitting in front of the fireplace and watching TV.

"Who are you?" She said. Andres looked at me, took a deep breath and frowned. My máma doesn't recognize me anymore. She's in her 80's now but still looked 20 years younger. But her memory started to fade which was the saddest thing that can happen.

"I'm your son. Pancho." I replied. I sat down beside her then placed her hand on my face.

"No you're not Pancho. That guy is Pancho." She said as she pointed towards Charlie's direction. She thought I was him because we were sporting the same hairstyle when I was his age.

"Andres! Andres! I don't know him. Is he your brother?" Máma said. Calling Andres as if I am a stranger.

"Si, máma. Estoy Pancho! The man you're pointing at is your grandson Charlie!" Andres said.

"Mi Charlito esta niño, that man is Pancho!" Insisting that Charlie is really me. She said that Charlie was a little boy so Charlie approached her and introduced himself.

"Mamita, yo soy Charlie. Esta mi padre, Pancho." He said.

"Que?" She said.

"Si mama, yo soy Pancho, tu hijo!" I replied. After a while, she now remembered who I was.

The young ones went outside to play snowballs with their cousins and then later said that they will go skiing.

"I don't know about skiing. I don't know if I can do it." I told Camila while she's watching TV and drinking hot chocolate with marshmallows.

"Pancho, I think you can do it. There's nothing that you can't do." She said.

"No. I'm kidding. You're right. You're sixty-five years old now and you might injure your back again." She added. I sat beside her and we watched some American comedy show.

Andres approached me and handed me a glass of scotch. What does he want to talk about now.

"I have news from Manila. The oposition is getting stronger and stronger. There are protests everywhere and it looks like they will succeed soon." He said.

"I hope they do. It's been what, ten years already? I can't wait to go home and live on our old houses in Makati." I replied then took a sip from my scotch glass. This scotch is smooth!

"I know Pancho. But I think we will only visit the Philippines every once in a while. Olivia has a good job in LA. I think she'll stay there. But if Andy wants to practice his business career in Manila, then I will go with him and reopen our business." He replied.

"I hope we can still return home after all of this is over." I said.

That night we spent Christmas together as a family. Andres being the head of the family since pápa died gave a short toast over eggnogs and wines.

"May we spend next Christmas in our home in Manila. I can't wait to go to our beach house, sail on our boats, ride our horses. May our business operate next year, and our children succeed on whatever they want to do in their lives. Salud! Viva La Filipinas!" He said in a true sense of being a Spanish mestizo that he is. He now looked like pápa as he gave the toast. With salt and pepper hair, and his gaze that made him look a little snobbish and unapproachable.