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“SO IT’S NOT URBAN LEGEND. The things I hear of you ladies hanging out.” Nino glanced at his rearview mirror, at the three women huddled in his backseat, then at Santana beside him, before zooming back on the road.
“It’s a need,” Jill said, elbow propped against the car door. “We get tired of you guys too. You must know that.”
“Does your man know?” Nino had to ask.
Jill grinned at him through the rearview mirror. “Shinta encourages it.”
“He sponsored a spa day once,” Alice volunteered beside her. “That was glorious.”
“Ugh, yes, massages and facials. Need,” Ana piped in.
Ana, whose man was Miki, completed the lineup of women who were dating his friends. She was a corporate finance lady, an accountant to be specific, ruling another world of brain pain Nino remained in massive awe of. Like Santana’s science, he’d never get it, but he was amazed and grateful for people who did.
“I was coming from a particularly hellish tax deadline then,” Ana was saying from her seat directly behind him. She was still in her office casuals. Miki did say she could be coming straight from an all-nighter. “Bless Shinta’s generous heart and celebrity pockets.”
“I got you,” Nino promised. He may not have an international superstar budget but he did have good ideas. And today was one of his best, if he’d say so himself. “We’re going somewhere nice and free today too.”
“We better.” Santana shifted beside him and threw him a look, lips curling up in challenge. “You took over girls’ day out. Do you know how hard it is to organize?”
Nino went over the variations of competence he had inside his car. One was the frontwoman of his band, one was a badass corporate accountant, one a fast-rising actress, and one was an engineer who ran all the shifts to give the Metro Manila East Zone clean water.
He suddenly felt touched and very unworthy. He tugged his seatbelt tighter around him and checked his speed.
“I have a plenty good idea, yes,” he said, flashing Santana a grin. He tipped his head back towards the rest of his passengers. “Thank you, ladies, for your accommodation.”
“You won’t even say where we’re going,” Santana grouched.
“We can trust Nino,” Jill said. “He’s nice these days.”
“Right?” Ana agreed. “He’s gotten quite tolerable.”
“I think it helped that the bickering with Kim mellowed out.” Jill was tapping her fingers against the window, leaving smudges on the clean glass. “Or was that an effect rather than the cause? Either way, we’re enjoying the peace.”
Ana hinged forward and tapped Jill’s knee. “I was going to say.”
“Wow.” Nino whistled. “I am right here.”
Santana started poking his waist. “Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?”
It tickled. He snorted out a laugh, grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Almost.”
“Hey, that wedding you’re going to has its own hashtag already and it’s all over my feed. Hashtag JASTheRightOneForMEL,” Jill said, she and Alice looking up from scrolling her phone. “It’s not until next month, right? This couple is social media prepared.”
From the rearview, Nino saw Alice reach forward and tug gently at Santana’s elbow. “So you’re his date to the wedding?”
Nino may have gone very still to hear the answer. His exhale must have hitched by a little. He and Santana hadn’t talked about her joining him at the wedding since that night outside her building. Was it because he thought she’d back out? Insist that she never really agreed to go. That a wedding date with him was well beyond their exclusive but super chill dating arrangements, despite how he liked her and she liked him.
Or was it him choosing not to broach the topic? To ignore a plan that was made as if he hadn’t agreed to it to begin with. As if it didn’t exist, didn’t have to.
He was, as his friends would say, quite tolerable at present. Perfectly agreeable. Happy. Incandescently so. And he knew why. He also knew how easy it would be to turn it all upside down.
Nino liked the right side up. He liked how his heartbeats were a funky tap dance, not its usual gong of deadened drums.
He felt Santana’s fingers wiggle inside his grasp, then squeeze back. “I might have said yes to something of the sort,” she said, catching his gaze.
Nino’s heart stopped and restarted. He returned to normal breathing.
Alice jumped in her seat and started clapping. “Oh my god, I have dresses.”
“She does.” Ana was nodding, looking very impressed and satisfied. “Alice got it all for you, better than SM.”
***
EVERYONE HURRIED OUT of the car when they pulled up in front of a cluster of red brick buildings. Except for Santana, who took her time easing out of her seatbelt to ask a question.
“We’re not trespassing, are we?”
Nino raised an eyebrow. “You’re not putting it past me?”
“You say you have ideas, I get nervous.”
“The kuya guard let us through the gates, didn’t he? With a full salute and a dignified ‘good morning, mamser.’ This guard likes me, unlike your plant kuya guard who will be my buddy soon enough. I will not rest until I make it so.” Nino reached over to pop off her seatbelt for her, his chin anchored on her shoulder. His teasing gaze up close. “You Santana of little faith.”
They joined their friends and together crossed the small courtyard, past a row of parked school buses under waving camachile trees. Nino led their pack to a maroon-and-white domed building in the farthest west side, slowing down his long strides when Santana lingered at the plant boxes, lured by the flowers pouring from them. The doors to the building were unlocked, as he was promised they would be. He heaved them open and waited for Santana to come inside and lift her eyes to everything in sight. He hoped she liked what she saw.
Jill let out a whistle that bounced off the ceilings. “When you said an indoor pool as big as a house, you weren’t kidding.”
“It’s not a massage but yes, I accept.” Ana grabbed Nino’s arm which he took as her thanks, and then she and Jill were gone, off to the direction of the changing rooms.
Alice was right behind them, then she turned back to Santana. “I have extra swimsuits,” she said, flashing her a wide smile, eyes bright. “I got you, babe.” And she ran and disappeared behind the shower doors too.
Nino waited for Santana to take it all in. Kept silent and watchful as her eyes roamed, a deep whistle of air moving through the gap in her lips. Her gaze swept in all directions and fell, landed on the swimming pool, as if magnetized by its deep waters, blue and sparkling, reflecting lights from the ceiling and the tiled walls.
He thought she was used to views like this, having been a swimmer in her past, pre-real world life. He felt certain she was missing it, with the fondness he’d caught in her voice when she’d talked about it that sports day, and each time the topic spilled out of her mouth thereafter. Swim team memories that warmed and eased the endless tiredness in her eyes.
He thought she deserved some days to have it all back.
Sports day Santana was a fierce lion, competitive, strong, and a little bit scary. She shouldn’t be unleashed on only that one day of the year.
“Wow, this is not at all chill,” she spoke, finally.
Nino tried a shrug, just for size with his no-panicking-required voice. His words light and measured. “It’s just a swimming pool.”
She faced him with wide eyes, and Nino’s heart swelled at how she didn’t look like she was at the verge of running at all.
Santana swiveled back to the water. “It’s Olympic-sized,” she said, mouth still agape. “I can compete in here. I can run laps with a bunch of dolphins. Throw in a bunch of sea lions and we could dance a little jiggy together.”
“That’s a really nice visual. I’m going to need more resources to arrange that. For today, I was hoping you’d want to take a swim? You did say it’s been a while.” Nino reached out to slide the tips of his fingers on her wrist. Then he took a half-step back, hoping the physical space would help.
Santana’s hand twitched when he withdrew his touch. Her eyes roamed the waters, blue, wide, and welcoming.
She blew out a breath. It sounded like the exhale after the farthest lap. “Swimming is like riding a bike, right?” She turned to ask him.
Nino’s eyebrow cocked of its own volition. “I can push you in and we’ll find out?”
“No thanks.” She released a low chuckle, her face splitting to a smile. Nino took it as his favorite breakthrough. “This place looks very much like a fancy private school. Are we really not trespassing?”
“My mom works here. Part of the board of directors.” Nino grinned, a very proud son. His mother, the overachieving first-born daughter. “She says the swim team kids don’t practice on Sundays. This place is yours every week, if you want it.”
Always at her own pace, no matter how he dared to nudge her. Always up to her to accept, in the way she’d decide to.
Santana nodded, each dip and tilt a deliberate rhythm, arms dangling loose on her sides. “Who did you tell her you’re doing this for?”
“Some hot nerd who saves the world. I might have dropped your name. Among other nice, true things I said about you.”
To say he spilled about Santana to his mother would be a joke—it was more of a flood, a gush of feelings.
To say his mother was dying of curiosity and gladness was an understatement too. She might have thanked several saints and vowed novenas to a couple more for a sustained affair. Nino might have encouraged her to throw more pledges in there. But he shouldn’t share this now. Santana didn’t need that burden.
But then:
“Good,” she said. “I’d like to meet her.”
The fluorescent lights reflected off the waters, casting a prism of blue and white and shadow on Santana’s face. She was looking at him, then at the water. Back again at his waiting face.
Nino wondered if she saw in them the same things he knew for sure. A certain calm. Welcome depth. The water was warm as he had asked for her, a compromise and balance to the cooler, heavy November breeze outside—remnants of the past days of rain, wind, and thunder. It had every potential for a good swim. Invigorating. A kick to restart a heart. A reminder to limbs that they could still do the work, could plow on and leap, make forward motion.
They only needed to take the plunge.
“I feel like jumping.” Santana announced, divesting herself of her phone, then her red canvas shoes, leaving her in her thin white Henley shirt and denim shorts. She was smiling up at him. Earthy brown eyes deep and warm, pink mouth curved up, smile open-hearted and wide. It was acceptance as much as it was an invitation. “You?”
Who needed swimsuits? What of time and more preparation? Nino took his hard pumping heartbeat as a barometer of all the good things he was ready for. He kicked off his sneakers, stripped off his shirt and took Santana’s outstretched hand. It felt small and solid in his palm. Their fingers coiled together, steady as their breathing, as together they took a running start.
Days like now they only needed to jump.
