Blackmail and Bibingka by Mia P. Manansala

Author:Mia P. Manansala [Manansala, Mia P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2022-10-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

The next day, Ronnie hung around the house and restaurant all day. Now that his work with the winery was on pause, he had nothing but time and he seemed to want to spend it with his mom. Which would seem sweet if I didn’t know him so well—he was down, and Tita Rosie, while not usually physically or verbally affectionate, was still the sweetest, most nurturing person in the world. He wasn’t spending time with her to make up for all the years he wasn’t around, he was doing it for himself.

“Don’t you have better things to do?” I asked, after Tita Rosie went to the kitchen to get him another serving of chicken afritada. It was around lunchtime, and Tita Rosie and I were going to meet Xander soon. He’d called me that morning to apologize for his behavior the previous night and invite my aunt and grandmother and me over for lunch. He wanted to cook for us to thank us for our hospitality, and afterward we would get started on clearing Denise’s belongings out of the house.

“I think last night showed me that I’m not coping well. So if you have time after lunch, I’d be grateful if your church group could start clearing her belongings out of the house while I go to Chicago and talk to my therapist. If you need anything from the city, let me know.”

Since the Calendar Crew were also part of Tita Rosie’s church outreach group, it was easy to get them to agree to help sort through Denise’s things and keep an eye out for clues (which Tita Rosie wasn’t entirely comfortable with, but hey, this was for her son so she couldn’t complain). Lola Flor couldn’t join us since someone needed to stay behind and run the restaurant, but she had a two-page grocery list ready for Xander—hope he liked Seafood City as much as we did. Ronnie, of course, wasn’t accompanying us, despite being the reason we’d been dragged into this whole mess. Tita Rosie returned with a full platter of chicken afritada and asked if I was ready.

“You sure you can’t join us, Ronnie? I thought you wanted to make a good impression on your investor. Don’t you think he’d be touched that you came out to help?”

He ladled the tomato-based stew over the heap of white rice on his plate. “Nah, he’d probably find it uncomfortable. Gotta keep your professional and personal life separate, you know? Besides, I’m busy today.”

Lola Flor, who’d come out with Tita Rosie, frowned at him. “I thought you were here because you had nothing to do. Isn’t that what you said when I asked why you were freeloading off us instead of working?”

“Oh, uh, I got a message from Pete about our accounts. He wanted to teach me some stuff about the software since we have some time on our hands.” Ronnie leaned back in his chair, looking satisfied with the excuse he’d clearly just come up with. His phone rang and vibrated on the table, and he speared a potato before glancing at it.

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