Chapter 8: A Family Affair

I was scheduled to fly down to Argentina in three weeks. Mobile to Atlanta wasn’t even worth getting off the couch for but I couldn’t find any direct hops to Miami, so there was no choice. Once I got airborne out of Florida it was a ten-hour flight. Granted, I had spent more time in the back of a C130 in a web seat, so I had little to complain about. But I took Davee’s advice and booked a First-Class seat which would have been outrageous at any other point in my life. But by his reckoning, which sounded logical at the time, I’d probably make 10 times the $15K during the flight itself. So why the hell not?

I asked him to help me set up a monthly stipend for Lupi and the girls, to live by during my absence, and he put me in touch with his good friend and personal financial advisor. Her name was Wanda Clemmons and after speaking with her briefly over the phone I invited her to come over for lunch and present my options to me. She arrived the next day and I was surprised at how young she looked for her voice. I figured her to be in her early to mid-30s, but my track record with guessing women’s ages was pretty dismal. (I snuck a peek at Lupi’s driver’s license and was shocked to find out she was 31 years old.) She was very sharp-looking in professional attire, wearing a soft tan blazer with pinstriped slacks and practical heels. She stood about 5’7” and looked trim and healthy. Her hair was dirty blonde with a natural curliness that looked difficult to manage.

She seemed amicable enough and promptly removed her shoes at the door when she saw ours neatly arranged nearby. Gunner and Libby waited politely to be introduced and then thumped their tails excitedly when she presented each of them a hand to sniff before giving them a good scratch with her lacquered nails. They both approved and then went back to their naps. Lupi greeted her shyly and went to the kitchen to prepare tea and coffee. I proposed the couch and coffee table and we sat together so that she could present her materials.

“Mr. Davenport gave me a summary of your current and proposed financial picture and told me roughly what you were hoping to do.” she began as she brought out several Investment prospectuses and a small stack of forms that looked to have been filled out electronically.

“I’ll be honest with ya, er Wanda?” She nodded. “Please call me Al. Anyway, I don’t have a clue about all of these investment vehicles and wealth preservation strategies, that he talked about. I’ll try to nod and grunt when appropriate, but I’m inclined to just rely upon your expertise with a great deal of trust unless you prove to me otherwise.”

She adjusted her glasses and nodded. “I appreciate your candor and will strive to earn and grow your trust in me over time,” she replied, “for now it is enough to present you with the basics of what I think is the right direction going forward. I will show you the specs and goals of different mutual funds that cater specifically to those with greater affluence than most,” she fanned out the prospectuses and a couple of brochures, “and we will complete the forms I need to set up your accounts and provide me with the limited power of Attorney to act on your behalf in the future.”

For the next hour, she went over the forms and had me sign where appropriate. At one point she produced a Notary stamp and log book and certified several of my signatures, before continuing. She gave me a summary of her fees and how they broke down and showed me how to access my combined portfolios online to see how they were performing. I kept up with her for the most part and she wrapped it up by collecting all of her forms and slipping them back into her satchel.

“Do you have any questions for me at the moment?” she asked. Lupi sat quietly in my recliner with her legs crossed beneath her listening and watching us.

I shrugged. “Not right now, but I am sure I will. When I do, should I call or text or email you?”

She presented me with her card. “Any method is fine,” she answered. “Text will probably work best because I don’t answer my phone when I am with a client. Can I ask a few off-the-record questions?”

I nodded and she nodded to Lupi with a smile, “This trust fund is a simple annuity that we will be able to fund within 24 hours. You will both receive unique cards that will allow you to make purchases, withdraw cash, and make online payments, just like a credit or debit card. But these will have an added layer of protection and will be monitored closely for any signs of hacking or fraud.” She took a sip of her tea and removed a shiny black card from her clutch to show us. “They will look like this and I will most likely have them for you tomorrow afternoon or Wednesday morning.”

I held up a hand. “I know my royalties will begin depositing with your company but that won’t be for another two months...”

“That is of no concern Mr ... Alex,” she replied confidently, “Your bank or credit union probably offers you access to your monthly or biweekly paychecks a day early. We have a similar agreement with our clients and their revenue sources.” She set her cup down. “We have several clients referred to us from J R Publishing, and have a standing ... agreement, somewhat similar to a promissory note if you will.”

“So, you are going to loan me money in advance of my royalty payments?”

“It’s not such much a loan — which implies interest and payment schedules — but more of a forwarding of your own funds,” she replied. “Think of a retailer who extends credit to his customers. That credit balance gets listed as ‘accounts receivable’ and even though the retailer is still due payment, it is considered as income and reflects on the balance sheet as such. We are simply providing you funding in advance of your royalty payments.” She glanced at Lupi and then back to me. “At the risk of being too forward, can I ask if you and Ms. Cruz are planning on... ‘formalizing’ your relationship in the future ... or ever?”

That one made me sit back and blink. I gazed at Lupi and saw her big eyes grow even wider as color rushed to her cheeks.

“Umm,” I stammered. “I don’t ... or rather we ... um. We haven’t really talked about...”

Wanda appeared flushed as well as she swallowed and nodded her head. “I see, I am sorry for creating an awkward situation, I truly am. I just assumed ... and well. That wasn’t very professional. But if you do, please keep me informed so that we can sit down again to discuss other issues.” She rose quickly to her feet and stepped out from behind the low table.

I rose and joined her as did the dogs. We shook hands and she apologized once more before collecting her shoes and departing.

I closed the door after her and turned around exhaling long and slow. “That was ... um. Awkward.”

Lupi stood and came to put her arms around me and rest her head against my chest. “Alex, what was all of that about with the black cards and stuff?”

I sighed and held her tightly for a moment. “We need to talk about this sooner or later so I guess now is as good a time as any.” I turned back to the couch and beckoned her to join me. We continued to hold hands. I looked down at her smooth dark knees as I considered my words.

“Lupi, in the Marines we like to say ‘hope for the best but plan for the worst’. Does that make sense?” I looked into her deep brown eyes and felt relieved when she nodded. “Good, because you see I am getting ready to go down and have a major operation in a foreign country, with no insurance, or guarantees, or anything.”

She shivered and I could see that she had been thinking about it too.

“Now I am hoping for the best; and that in a month or so I will be returning here healthy and sound and ready to live the rest of my life without pain or a crippling disability,” I paused and squeezed her hands. “But there is always the chance that something could go wrong — and that is why I’m ‘planning for the worst’. It’s a just-in-case sort of thing.”

“Alex, what do you mean?” she asked softly. I could tell she was frightened.

“We don’t like to think of these things but — say something terrible happens and I happen to die.” I probably shouldn’t have put it like that because she gasped and tried to pull away from me. I pulled harder and wrapped my arms around her kissing her hair to soothe her. “I’m sorry, that was pretty blunt but it’s a possibility that we have to consider, okay?”

“No,” she replied with her voice muffled by my shirt, “we don’t have to because that won’t happen.”

I pushed her gently away so that I could look her in the eyes. “I know, it’s probably going to be okay. But I need you to know what will happen regardless.” She looked back at me with fear and uncertainty in her face. “My utmost desire, my highest priority, is to go into all this with the peace of mind of just knowing that you, your mom, and the girls will be taken care of no matter what.”

She sniffed and I saw a tear starting to form in her eye. I reached up and dabbed it away. “Davee will be there for you to help in any way he can. But no matter what happens, this house is going to be paid off and it will become yours, free and clear.” She gasped in astonishment, but I continued without letting her interrupt. “I have also set up trust funds for both the girls that will grow over time and hopefully pay for their education requirements and then some. The last thing I want for them or you, to worry about is money.” Her tears were running freely down her cheeks now and I had no tissues handy. “I am also setting you up with a trust fund annuity that will provide you with enough money to live on for you and the girls, and, Maria.” She made fists with her hands and placed them against my chest.

“Why?” she sobbed, “Alex why are you doing this?”

I pulled her back against me and felt her tears soaking into my shirt. “I don’t have any family sweetheart,” I replied. “I was thrown into the system at an early age and lived with foster families until I turned 17 and could join the Marines.” I took a deep breath and sighed. “You are all that I have. You, the girls, and Gunner and Libby.” It was a harsh confession but true nonetheless. “And I want to take care of you.

“Besides,” I added grimly, “it’s not like I can take any of this with me if I die or something.”

“Please don’t say that,” she cried softly, “I want you to come back again, healthy and painless.” She pulled away and wiped her eyes on her sleeves.

“I want to come back too,” I replied sincerely, “and when I do, I would like to ask you to become my wife.”

I saw the emotions play across her face as she absorbed what I said. Astonishment, disbelief, wonder, uncertainty, and then acceptance. She sobbed again and held her hands to her face as she looked back at me. “I will say yes,” she whispered as her voice quivered. She reached over and clasped my face with her hands. “Now ... and then.” She pulled me in for a desperate kiss and I felt moisture on my cheeks as I returned it.

One thing I’ve learned about Filipinos is that they do not require much of an excuse to throw a party. It could be a first birthday, wedding, funeral, graduation, or engagement, it doesn’t matter — they will party at the drop of a hat. Another thing about the culture is family. And when there’s a party you can be assured that it will be a family affair. An ‘extended’ family affair ... These affairs required very little organization — they just sort of happened spontaneously. And regardless of the occasion, you could be assured of several absolutes: there would be enough food to feed a third-world country, there would be music (karaoke was given), and there would be games (volleyball, badminton, basketball, soccer, Frisby, etc.). Oh, and I had a hot tub — that was the cherry on top!

I knew all of this going forward but it still seemed innocent enough when Lupi asked/suggested we have a ‘little’ get-together so that I could meet a ‘few’ of her family and we could celebrate our pending engagement (I guess the actual engagement would light off another soiree). It would also allow everyone to extend their best wishes for my surgery and recovery. Who was I to say no to such a nice little gesture? After all, I had wallowed in peaceful solitude for long enough, right? The following weekend I discovered the antithesis of ‘peaceful solitude’.

Friday evening before the shindig, Lupi came to me and asked an awkward favor. I should preface this by clarifying what most have already concluded about me. When it comes to religion, spirituality, metaphysical mumbo jumbo — I am about as non-committal as they come. I’m not an atheist because, to me, those are folks who are actively against organized religion, whereas I simply don’t give a fuck. I think that religion and politics are similar in the respect that the more fervent you follow them, the more duplicitous and close-minded you become. And threatening a person like me with hellfire and brimstone or eternal damnation—is like trying to give a nudist a wedgie. I’ve found over the years that those who cling most to the tenant of ‘Judge Not, lest you be judged’ — spend most of their life and energy doing just that.

“Alex,” she asked softly as she came to stand beside my recliner and placed a soft hand on my neck. She always gave me tingles when she did that and I relished every single touch.

“Yeah Babe,” I replied, promptly closing down my laptop to give her my undivided attention.

“I know that you are not religious and I want you to know how much I appreciate your allowing me and the girls to go to church,” she said. “It means a lot to me that you support us in this. And I will never try to push my religion or beliefs upon you. I don’t believe in that kind of thing.”

I could sense a caveat in the mix and settled for simply nodding as she spoke.

“I think that you will find most of my family to be more open-minded about these things as well and I hope you can overlook a few of the older relatives who might seem more stringent.”

I nodded once more. This open-mindedness was pretty self-evident considering her catholic background would probably frown upon our current living arrangements. And the fact that I typically had her crying out, “Oh God!” every night, without any thunderbolts or lightning strikes, suggested we were doing okay with living in sin. But I still sensed a ‘but’ coming...

She paused and began rubbing my shoulders with those incredible fingers of hers. Uh oh ... here it comes, the wind-up... ‘ “My grandma ... Didi, and Lulu’s ‘dakilang lola’, is coming tomorrow and I have something of hers that I would like to put up on the wall in here if it is okay with you.” I closed my eyes, savoring the feel of her strong hands kneading the stiff muscles in my neck. I moaned appreciatively. It had to be a crucifix or a rosary. I inwardly smiled at how uncomfortable she was bringing it up.

“You can decorate the walls as you see fit, my love,” I replied, “on one condition.”

She paused uncertainly and looked at me curiously. “What do you mean?”

I smiled and pulled her hand over my shoulder by an inch. “Get me a little harder right about there,” I sighed. She laughed and slapped me gently. Then she went to town on my shoulders and I closed my eyes with another moan.

I got it in one. Two for one actually. It was an old crucifix AND a rosary. I secured them right in the center of the wall separating the living room from the kitchen (it was the only free space not filled with bookcases). It would be the first thing you looked at when you walked in the front door. She was so happy that she gave me an extra special massage with a ‘happy beginning’ and ‘ending’. Life didn’t get much better than that.

The first of the family began showing up by midmorning, except Maria who decided to spend the night (sleeping with the twins on the spare bed). Lupi and I tried to contain our passion by sticking to foreplay and oral sex. Locking our bodies together in 69 seemed a reasonable precaution, muffling our moans and cries — provided nobody walked in on us.

I met her older brother Diego and his Caucasian wife Mandy (who turned out to be the only other non-Asian here) and slowly more groups of strangers arrived. She had three maternal uncles, the oldest a minister (who showed up with the collar) Father Venancio Cruz; three maternal aunts, two paternal uncles, and three paternal aunts. Even her late brother-in-law showed up. His name was Roberto or Robby as he insisted, and we got along famously (despite the awkwardness of my banging his late brother’s widow). There were too many cousins to mention and then all of the offspring from the various couples. The house was filled to the rafters and the entire street was full of parked cars. For once I relished the inconvenience and disruption to all of my fucking neighbors.

The only thing that rubbed me the wrong way was one of her aunts (maternal, I think), a girl younger than Lupi, named Carmelito, who insisted on bringing her “Gemma”; a short-haired Rat Terrier that peed every time you so much as looked at it wrong. Gunner and Libby towered over the little ‘puntable’ and sent her screeching off to a corner, leaving a trail of tinkle-sprinkles. Otherwise, my two ‘kids’ got along great with everyone and had the time of their lives playing frisbee with the kids.

One teenage girl caught my attention as soon as she entered in the company of Lupi’s uncle Father Venancio and his wife Christina. She was introduced to me as Jasmine and Lupi latched onto her immediately. I watched the dynamics of the family from my recliner, venturing out occasionally to refresh my coffee and sample all of the wonderful food—chicken, pancit, and lumpia will always be my favorite foods after that day. When she wasn’t helping Lupi with some chore or other, Jasmine would always fall back and maintain a distance from the rest of the family. Occasionally she would join the younger crowd in a game or play with the smaller children, but for the most part, she kept to herself.