Forrest of Oaks
Chapter 2: Miguel Lopez
The Bellaflor mansion had nine baths, seven bedrooms, four dens, two offices, and two kitchens. Outside were two big pools, two Jacuzzis, a playground with slides and swings, a tennis court, a basketball court with bleachers, a spacious covered porch, a covered garage for Mr. Bellaflor's big toys, and two landscaped gardens filled with Mrs. Bellaflor's orchids. Plus, the unnecessary doors after doors after doors because Mr. and Mrs. Bellaflor can't simply get over their obsession for safety. But no matter how big their mansion was, Forrest thought it had always been just empty.
Tonight, only Betty was home, along with five other helpers. Betty was the fifty-year-old yaya who had eyebrow tattoos and wore tong all the time. She was the kind of nanny Mr. Bellaflor never intended to hire but apparently, Betty had her own ways of getting her dream come true—to be associated with a wealthy family with a mansion in a big property.
No matter how big the Bellaflor mansion was, it had never been, not once, a home to Forrest. She knew they weren't a perfect family. She even doubted if her parents still slept on the same bed. Her sister Keitrin and her hate each other. But in front of guests, they had always been the ideal family.
The Bellaflors had a big bash last night. Third this month. And it was yet for another of the couple's obsession—socializing. Forrest didn't hate parties as they were; she hated parties when she had to mingle with bratty kids she didn't even know. Last night, she had to entertain two senators' daughters. Their names were Bettina and Krishna. Bettina had a long chin that you can almost mistaken her as a banana with a face. She was irritably confident and she thought she was the prettiest banana in the world. Krishna didn't fit her cute name. All the time, Forrest avoided contact with Krishna's skin. She couldn't imagine why the senator couldn't buy her daughter expensive lotions so the girl had to settle for near-the-expiry-date bargains.
Both of them insisted Mr. Bellaflor was nothing if not for their dads. That Mr. Bellaflor was in this huge illegal smuggling business and that he was soon going to be jailed. Forrest didn't believe them one bit. The single thing she hated about her dad was his being the overrated description of the adjective “workaholic.” A businessman with no boundaries. She need not know about his real business because she was only concerned about his late visits to her room to kiss her goodnight.
Betty and the helpers were busy scrubbing drops of champagne and bits of tapas off the marble flooring when she arrived, at exactly 5:35pm. They were chatting and laughing, something they knew Mr. Bellaflor despised. Because at home, Mr. Bellaflor preferred everything in their proper places: the chandeliers and glass walls glistening, his German Shepherds stuffed, the alarm system perfectly working, and the helpers doing their jobs individually, exactly what they've been paid for. But when it comes to Forrest, Mr. Bellaflor's a little bit softer. So today, she will abuse her father. She will go with Miguel out-of-town for the first time without his consent.
Based on her dad's rules, she wasn't allowed to date yet. Nothing was wrong with her dad, to be clear. Mr. Bellaflor knew that his daughter was seventeen and like others, capable of liking one from the opposite sex. And there was nothing unlikeable with Miguel, too. In fact, Miguel's family was rich and popular in their own way. They owned eighteen automobile parts shops which made Miguel's schedule always full. His normal day wouldn’t be complete without visiting at least five of those shops. So the problem was, her dad had a thing with boys. Every single one of them looked suspicious to him. If he wasn't a gangster, he was a gold digger. If he wasn't an exhibitionist, he was a psychotic. And if he had known that before Miguel, Forrest have had two boyfriends, it might have already given him a severe heart attack.
Martha, Forrest's personal yaya, had finished preparing Forrest's bath but she was still too lazy to get off her water bed. She lay with the expensive silk sheets daydreaming of her soon changing life. Yes. She will be entering college and she had already chosen the perfect university.
After a cold shower, her LV was ready, also prepared by Martha. Betty, recently appointed her to attend to all her needs that no matter how her mother insisted not to give her Martha full time, her father did so to please his daughter. Martha stuffed the bag with a couple of two-piece suits, clothes, cosmetics, and Forrest's Turkish Rose oils. A few minutes later, Forrest easily got out of the mansion with no one to bother about either the clicking of her pumps or where the hell she was going. Even her nine-year-old sister Pollie wasn't in her room.
Forrest was wrong to think no one was home. Mrs. Bellaflor was at the front yard, quiet with her orchids. When she wasn't at her pastry shops or at the salon or at the clubhouse or at the shopping malls, she was at her lavish garden tending to her orchids. Of course she saw her came in a while ago. For her not to say “Hi, how was your day?” or “Honey, did you eat?” was normal. “Not the normal type of mother,” Forrest had always told Miguel of her thirty-four-year-old mother.
Elise Bellaflor. As pretty as her name was her face always being mistaken as one of Mr. Bellaflor's daughters. Mr. Bellaflor wasn't too old at fifty-four. Forrest believed that her mother's youthful glow was a product of expensive science. Or botox, to be specific. Whatever it was, she can definitely splurge money for it. That was what she was working hard for. She owned a chain of pastry shops. As a mode to promote it, she did everything from giving away cakes to charities to sponsoring meals for professional basketball leagues even if what she really sold was dessert. Elise simply loved the limelight, the socialites, and any other group of persons that could help her attain popularity.
“Where to at this hour?” she asked Forrest airily.
Forrest didn't want to have this kind of conversation tonight. She was excited to see Miguel and the last thing she needed was her mood getting ruined again. In fact, she hated looking at her mother's frozen face. And the last time they talked civilly was a very long time ago. Forrest can't even remember what they've talked about.
“It's not twelve, Mother. It's six pm. Why do you care?” Even if Forrest was calm, she always sounded like she was mad.
“Don't talk to me like that.” Elise's manner of talking reached Forrest's same intensity.
“Oh, I guess no one taught me what manners are. I was like, too young when my mother got rid of me like a spoiled cupcake.”
“I don't want an argument tonight.”
“I know. I know. How could I’ve forgotten? You don't have time for me. You probably don't even like seeing my pitiful face. You're too stressed out mingling with your elite peers already and all you want to think about is how to get them envious of you the next time you meet. Right? Get a purse worth fifty thousand dollars. Or get your hair dyed real gold.” Forrest chuckled softly. She thought that was a brilliant idea. Gold hair.
“I don't care what rubbish you put inside your head. I don't control your mind. I care about you getting your father's attention again. Forrest is not home yet... Is Forrest still partying at this hour? You out with the nobodys again. I'm sick.”
Forrest admitted that was a tough one. But she had been dealing with this for a long time now. She was even thankful that she wasn't compared to Keitrin this time.
“Your father's arriving early tonight. He wants everyone present for dinner.”
“I don't see why I should stay when Keitrin and Pollie aren't here anyway.”
“I don't want Keitrin and Pollie imitating you.”
“That's why you keep them away from me?” Forrest held her tears to her eyes. It was the perfect time to cry, when her mother had just impliedly told her she doesn't love her. But Forrest knew she had to be strong.
“I hate you,” Forrest uttered softly and walked away.
Forrest loaded her stuff at the back seat of Miguel's Cayenne and heard Miguel singing along with Usher. She just loved listening to Miguel when he sings. Aside from Usher, his favorites were Sting, Linkin Park and Matchbox 20. Miguel wasn't an excellent singer, the fact that he was always ahead or late in tune made her laugh really hard. He was the perfect description of her fantasy guy. He was five years older, the perfect example of the word gorgeous, liked clubbing as much as she did, and more importantly, he accepted her for who she was no matter what her haters said about her.
Simply put, Miguel was the only light on her rather dark path. It was him who made her smile when her world seemed to be crumbling. The very thought of him calmed her heart. Whenever she was very mad, she thought of Miguel. The thought of Miguel made her anger slowly fade away. Miguel was her secret weapon against all the negativity in the Bellaflor mansion, at Xavier, in the whole wide world.
Forrest opened the door with a smile on her face. She gave Miguel a peck on the cheek. “Hi, Bee.”
“What are you wearing?” Miguel said. People don't know how to give good greetings anymore.
Miguel sighed with the immeasurable annoyance on Forrest's face. “It’s all right. I have a present for you anyway.”
That had calmed Forrest down. She got into the car. She smiled, trying to erase the annoyance on her face and asked,
“What is it, Bee?”
He handed her a white box with a red ribbon around it. He waited eagerly as she untied the ribbon. The gift was a DKNY white jacket. “I love it,” she said.
“It doesn’t sound like it.”
“Nooo… I really love it! It matches my outfit perfectly.”
Honestly, she didn’t like it. It was only a reminder that she was wearing something inappropriate again. If her count was right, this had been the fifth jacket he had given her. But there was no reason to frown anymore after Miguel had smiled and that cute dimple at the very center of his cheek mesmerized her once more, the same way it always had for the past one and half years.
Miguel started the engine and off they went.
“Won't you tell me what's your surprise?” She had to pretend she was excited about this date. Marvin, one of his best friends from college, helped him get the reservation for a very exclusive beach resort. Forrest was right after all—Miguel was about to bring her to a hut. An elegant one. A hut styled by an internationally acclaimed Filipino interior designer with its bathroom tiled all throughout.
“Nope. Remember the last time I tried to surprise you and you uncovered it? It cost me twenty thousand pesos and a dear friend. It could have been worthwhile if Maddie and Tom liked each other. But I guess your friend has a real peculiar taste.”
“What?”
“Maddie didn't like Tom.”
“It was your friend who said that Maddie was over the top! The skirt and the hair! He obviously didn't like her.”
“And who told you that? A mere speculation. It doesn't mean he didn't ask her for a date right away, he didn't like her.”
“Nooo!” She shook her head like a little girl. “That means a lot on a first date. With the time he took to think before asking Maddie out again, you'd really think he isn't interested.”
“A week? Are you kidding me?”
“A week’s like almost a year in the dating world, aren’t you aware of that?”
“I can't believe this.”
“Let me tell you, Bee, that every first date is crucial. Especially when a girl finds the guy like... a potential boyfriend.
She'll dress up really nice hoping that the guy will wanna see her again. If the night ends without an invitation for a next date, it means the efforts of the girl were not enough. It means, she isn't the guy's type. It means, it's over for the two of them.”
“That's ridiculous. So what you're saying is, even if this guy eventually realizes that he wants to see this girl again later on, that's no longer allowed?”
“I don't know with other girls. But Maddie and I believe that the only reason a guy would do such a thing is if he finds it difficult to find another girl to date.”
Miguel laughed. “I just can't get that kind of reasoning. So it's not only Maddie, huh? No patience when it comes to guys?”
“Hmmm... Maybe I'm a little different. Wait a minute... You've managed to divert my attention into something! How wicked!”
“Bee, only a few hours and you'll see it. The beach, the sand, the champagne. That's all I can tell right now because if I speak any further... A surprise is a surprise. Besides, when will we ever get the chance to go on a trip like this again?”
That just ruined her night.
“I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't be bringing up that topic again. I'll just drive.”
She was quiet for a while, trying not to be mad at him. This date was not to waste, she knew that.
“Are you still thinking about it?”
“We've talked about this a hundred times. A hundred times! University's not gonna take me away from you. I badly want to finish college and if you're like... the first person to go against that, then I wouldn't be happy.”
He looked at her lovingly, clearly regretful. “I'm just worried.”
“Worried of what?”
“I don't think this is the right time to talk about this.”
“There wouldn't be another time like this. I want to talk about it now.”
How would Forrest react about this sensitive topic? How can he tell her this in a way that it wouldn’t hurt her feelings? Or make her think negatively?
“Okay. I'm going to tell you now because I don't think I would be able to sleep another night without knowing what you think about this anyway. I don't mean this in a wrong way, please consider that. Okay. I'm worried about the guys in that place. It's not Philippines. And guys from other countries, especially London... they are just playful and romantic... and white... and handsome. With your face, the way you dress, your hair. I mean, you're the perfect attraction they don't see every day. They will drool on you and... I don't know. This is sick, but what can I do? This is me. This is how I feel. I don't really want to be away from you. Not that far.”
Even if Forrest, her sisters, and Elise had been living all their lives in the Philippines, Elise never failed to expose them to the Western culture. Miguel on the other hand, was the kind of guy who was very loyal to his mother land. No matter what the odds, he loved his roots and he despised overseas influences. But that doesn't mean Miguel was old-fashioned.
“I'm sorry. I shouldn't be acting like this. Of course, it's your future. That's what you want. As a guy in love with you, I should be supporting you. I should be trusting you. I'm sorry, Bee. I'm—”
Miguel need not say anything more because Forrest had already kissed him. Miguel was one of the very few that Forrest understood wholeheartedly. Forrest then closed her eyes to sleep. It was 7pm and the road to the resort was still hours too far.
