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Max never thought of anything wrong when her mother dropped her off at her grandma’s house at 2 o'clock in the morning. Her mama narda woke her up, gently tapping on her cheek. She first thought she had to wake up for school, but her mother only smiled at her as she shook her head.
“Get up, baby. Punta muna tayo kay Lola mo.”
She was too sleepy to question her, so she just got up and followed her mama. She fell asleep almost immediately when she got into their car.
The next thing she knows, the smell of her favourite longganisa and sinangag wafts her senses and rids off her sleepiness all at once. Her heart could’ve jumped in joy; she missed her lola’s cooking.
“Maxine, apo.” Her lola peeks her head inside the bedroom — her mama Narda’s childhood bedroom. She quickly gets up and runs towards her lola.
She engulfs her in a tight hug. She has not seen her lola in a long time; she notices they’re almost the same height. The last time she visited her with her parents, Max was only up to her chest.
“I miss you, lola,” she says. A grin can’t be etched off her face as she snuggles to her even closer.
“Ay apo, ang laki laki mo na,” her lola comments, tapping on her back gently like her mama Narda would. She has a soft smile on her lips when she looks at Max, almost as if admiring her. “O siya, tara na at luto na ang almusal mo. Nagluto ako ng mga paborito mo.”
Max can dance in excitement.
Her lola doesn’t let go of her arm as they walk towards the kitchen. A scowl dents on her eyebrows however, as she realises her mama Narda is not there.
“Lola where’s mama po?” she asks.
Her lola only sighs as she starts setting up the plates on the table. “Apo, dito ka daw muna. Busy ang mama at mommy mo.”
Max nods in understanding. Her moms are both busy — she’s used to it. It became clearer to her when she turned eleven. When the tradition of her birthday surprises at 12 midnight just abruptly stopped. She never mentioned it, never asked about it. Her mothers also never brought it up.
She’s 14 now and her birthday is coming up in two months.
Her only wish, though, is for her moms to barge in her room again at 12 midnight. For them to carry a small lit up cake, wearing silly birthday hats, laughing as they struggle to sing her happy birthday song in-sync.
She misses spending time with both of them. But Max also understands that the reason they work hard is for her and her future. They made sure to remind her that.
So for her past three birthdays, she would only turn the lights off fifteen minutes after the clock strikes twelve. She would sing herself a happy birthday, hopeful that her moms would still come into her room and surprise her. She would silently wish, until her eyes would give up and fall asleep.
—
The first time she thinks that something could be wrong, is when she gets back home after a week at her lola’s — to a house where only her mommy Regina is there.
Max would think her mama Narda is only away. Maybe on a business trip again. But her mommy Regina has tearful eyes when she welcomes her in. Her mommy hugs her so tight, as if she’s afraid Max will go away.
“Mommy, what’s wrong?” She asks.
Max can’t explain the feeling in her chest. A dark cloud seems to cast on their once warm and vibrant home.
Home .
It doesn’t even feel like home.
Not when she looks around their living room and a feeling of emptiness latches on her chest. She can’t see any of her mama Narda’s things in their house.
Her shoes at the foyer. Her portraits hung on the wall. Her lego collection on the shelf next to their TV.
Their living room looks bare.
“Mom, where’s mama?” She asks again, voice shaking. She fears for what this could mean.
Meanwhile her mommy Regina gives her a hopeful smile. “Mama is just gone for a trip, anak. Don’t worry.”
A trip where she takes all her things with her? Even her paintings and legos?
But if being in denial can save her from the hurt, then she will blindly believe what her mommy just said. Just gone for a trip.
Everything is fine.
That’s enough, for now.
—
Until two weeks later and her mama Narda is still not back.
Her mommy Regina barely talks to her. She barely even sees her.
She spends more time with her yaya than anyone else.
She sits in her room, distracting herself by doing her homeworks. Lately, she can’t help but yield to her sadness when she’s alone. She doesn’t want to talk about it. Neither does she pry and ask her moms what’s really going on yet. Talking about it only makes it real. So she keeps it in, but at night when she’s by herself, it’s much harder to keep them locked away.
She stops writing when she hears shuffling outside her room — which is the hallway leading to her moms’ bedroom.
“Umuwi ka na pala.”
She hears her mommy Regina say. Max stands up, realising her mama Narda is back.
She smiles as relief washes over her body.
Her mama is home.
She’s about to open the door when her mama speaks.
“Kukunin ko si Maxy. Dun muna s’ya samin nila Lola.”
Her mommy Regina scoffs. Max walks closer to the door to listen in.
“You are not taking her. Max stays here with me.” Her mommy states with conviction. Her mama would describe this tone as her mommy’s lawyer voice.
“Para ano? E sabi sakin ni Manang halos wala ka daw dito sa bahay. Sino kasama ng anak natin? Mapapabayaan mo lang siya dito, Regina.”
Regina? A piece of Max's heart feels like it’s been chipped away. It just sunk in to her that her moms call each other by their first name now. Not mahal nor my love or any of their usual names of affection for each other.
Max reminisces how she would feel so warm and giddy when she sees them cuddling, kissing and being so sweet and affectionate to each other.
It just makes her realise… that she can’t even remember the last time she saw them like that.
“Oh, wow. So are you saying I’m a bad mom, Narda? What a hypocrite.”
“That’s not what I mean. Sakin lang— at least maaalagaan siya ni lola dun sa amin.”
“I can take care of my daughter, Narda. She is staying with me and that’s final. You can visit her here but you are not taking her away from me.”
Max takes in a sharp breath. Her mommy is starting to sound agitated.
“Reg,” her mama Narda sighs. She can tell she’s getting frustrated too, but as usual, she remains calm. “Ok, fine. Let me just see Max, then aalis na ko.”
As she hears that, Max quickly shuffles back to her desk and pretends to be busy.
Soon enough her bedroom door opens to her mama. Her mama always has that smile that can brighten up any situation. She makes her feel like nothing is wrong, that everything is just the way it used to be.
She smiles back at her.
“Hi, Maxy. I missed you,” she says. She walks towards her and Max jumps right in her arms.
She inhales her scent, nuzzling her cheeks on her mama’s neck. “I miss you mama. How’s your trip?” She asks, as if she’s not fully aware that her mama did not really go on a trip.
As she expected her mama looks confused for a second. “My trip… was great, anak.” She looks away, uneasy. “How’s my baby ha? Kamusta school mo?”
“Ok naman po, ma,” she answers.
She holds her mama’s hand. Max is sure her mama is not going to stay here for the night, so she has to think on her feet how she can make her stay.
Just then an idea comes up. “Mama, I miss you and mommy na. Can we watch a movie tonight? Then I sleep with you in your room? Both of you have been so, so busy with work lately.”
It’s a desperate request. Max needs to do something to save her family.
Her mama takes a deep breath. There’s fear and reluctance in her eyes. “Anak, I’m sorry pero mama needs to go to lola’s tonight.”
Max does her best pleading eyes. “Mama, please?”
Her mama cups her face, and places a peck on her forehead. “Not tonight, baby.” She says. “Y-you’re lola, she asks me to help her with something.”
Her mommy taught her one time, that stuttering is a sign that someone is lying. Although, she also knows her mama is only making an excuse. “Mama, please?” She asks again, more desperate this time.
Finally, her mother relents. “Ok, anak. Ikaw talaga, kamukhang kamukha mo si mommy mo when you want to get something ha.”
Max can see a glimmer of hope with the way her mama breaks into a wide grin at the mention of her mommy. “I know how mommy can always make you say yes, ma,” she teases.
Her mama just laughs. “But kailangan mo i-ask si mommy mo about the movie. It’s late na, ‘nak.” She reminds her.
Max pouts. “Unlike you, mommy is a tad bit hard to convince.”
Her mama sends her a knowing look. “I know, anak.”
—
“Maxy, you have school tomorrow. And mommy also has work early.”
Well, there it goes.
Max looks at her mama sitting on the other end of the dining table, seeking for help. But she only raises her eyebrows at Max, leaving her to her own devices as she faces her mommy.
“Mommy, please? It’s only 8 lang naman. The movie will finish at 9:30 tops, then I will go straight to sleep na. That means I can still have nine hours of sleep before I need to wake up tomorrow!” She argues.
If a mere ‘ mama, please’ can work on her mama Narda, her mommy Regina can only be convinced if she knows exact details and if she agrees to it.
She can see through her peripheral the supportive smile on her mama’s face. Meanwhile, her mommy is not the least yet convinced. “No means no, Maxy,” she says, firmly using her lawyer voice. “And your mama is not sleeping here.”
Max feels her chest tighten. Her mama is rubbing her temple, silently looking at her apologetically from afar.
“Mom,” she says. She walks closer to her mommy and holds her hand. Max cannot just give up. “Fine, let’s give up the movie. Pero can I sleep with you and mama, please? Please, please, pretty please, Mommy?”
“Maxy —“
“Pagbigyan na natin, mahal,” her mama interrupts her. She stands up from her seat as she strides towards her and her mommy.
Mahal.
Max swallows a squeal to hide her kilig.
She chances a glance at her mommy, but the expression on her face just screams irritation. She’s even glaring at her other mother.
Well, that kilig lasted approximately two seconds.
“Sige na. Minsan lang naman mag-request yung bata,” her mama tries to coax her mommy again, now even with a matching pleading stare.
Her mommy squints. She stares back at her mama, as if she wants to say something but she can’t due to Max being there. Only at this moment Max is glad that her parents think she’s still unaware of their crippling family status.
Without her mommy saying anything yet, her mama already turns to her with a comforting smile.”Ok na, anak. You get ready for bed na. Then, punta ka na lang sa room namin ni mommy mo after, ok? Don’t forget Dora ha? I know you can’t sleep —”
“Ma! I’m too big na for my Dora plushie!”
Her mama laughs, and if her eyes are sending correct messages to her brain, her mommy also has a big smile etched on her face, finally easing off her frown.
“You’re still my baby Maxy, anak. Kahit pa may asawa ka na,” her mama adds, ruffling and messing her hair.
Max answers with a scowl. But deep inside her heart feels so full. She sees how her mama’s arm is around her mommy’s waist, but she pretends to ignore it, as she inwardly celebrates.
“Study first, Maxy,” her mommy counters.
“Opo, ‘my. Let me get ready for bed na po.” She says and turns around to start walking back to her bedroom.
She sighs in contentment. Thank God, she prays. There’s nothing more than she wishes to have than this. She wants her family back.
She wants her parents back.
Together.
—
There is a massive, thick blanket of tension in the air as she enters her mothers’ bedroom.
Her mommy is red in the face, almost teary-eyed as she quietly sits on the bed. While her mama stands at the furthest possible corner of the room from where her mommy is sitting.
The distance between them is glaring. There’s a pinch in Max’s heart as the reality of her family pours down on her like a bucket full of ice.
There is a problem.
And it’s not something she can ignore, or erase and fix in just one night.
They’re at the edge of breaking up, if they haven’t already. It’s painfully obvious that Max feels like crying.
Her mama Narda stands up. The usual smile on her face is still there, although now it’s hardly convincing.
“Let’s sleep na, Max?” She touches her shoulder.
Max just nods weakly. She suddenly feels a wave of guilt overcome her. Is what she’s doing even right? Is she inflicting more hurt on her parents by forcing this on them? “Ma?” She whispers.
Her mama leans closer to her. “Yes, anak?”
“A-are you—“
Are you and mommy okay? She wants to ask, but she stops herself. She knows the answer, but she’s not ready to hear it yet.
She hides her impending grief with her best goofy smile. “Are you sleepy yet?”
Her mama slightly shakes her head. “Di pa,” she whispers back.
“Can we watch the movie when mommy sleeps?”
Her mama answers her question with a playful smile and a wink.
“What are you two whispering about, huh?” Her mommy joins in.
Both her and her mama innocently shake their heads. They are so in-sync it almost looks comical, to the point that it even brings a small chuckle out of her mommy Regina.
“You really take after your mama ha, Maxy,” she comments. “Come here na, pala. I miss hugging my baby din to sleep.”
At that, Maxy runs to their king-size bed and throws herself on the mattress. Her mommy helps her get under the duvet, making sure she’s fully tucked in.
Being back on her parents' bed, like the old days, brings so much nostalgia in Max’s heart. Reminiscing her younger days, the happy times with her parents blooming with happiness and pure love for each other.
The fear of having this happiness taken away from her eventually overwhelms her senses. Her emotions breaking out of the tall gates she locked them in before she could even think of stopping it.
She hugs her mommy to hide her tears, tightening her grip, scared she will slip away if she doesn’t. She’s reminded of the first time she came home to their house almost empty. How her mommy held her— she finally understands. She holds on to her mom, for support, for hope of fixing their glaringly obvious, broken family.
Hurt, turmoil, fear and denial. It’s all bleeding out of her chest.
“Maxy, it’s okay,” she hears her mommy coos at her. She rubs her back for comfort and showers her head and cheeks with kisses. “Baby, mommy and mama are here na. Don’t cry, my love.”
Max feels droplets of tears wetting her shoulder. Her mommy is crying too.
“Maxy, ‘nak.” It’s her mama this time. “Do you— do you want to talk, anak?”
“No,” she croaks out. She wishes just for another night, when they can all act and pretend to be complete. To be happy.
Her mama takes a deep breath. She feels her lying down beside her, joining in on the hug. She pats her hair and pecks the back of her head.
“Mama and mommy will always love you, Maxy. Remember that.” She whispers.
Max’s sobs intensify. She lets go of her mommy and turns to her mama, revealing her tear-stricken face. She settles herself inside her mother’s warm embrace. “I love you too, mama,” she says voice breaking as she kisses her. Then she faces her mommy. “I love you mommy,” she continues and gives her mommy a kiss as well.
Her parents have warm smiles on their lips. They’re hurting too, but she knows they’re also trying to be strong. For her.
And for now, it’s enough for Max.
—
Max wakes up in the middle of the night. She’s awaken by her mama snoring, but she can’t even get annoyed at it.
Not when she finds herself, somehow not in between her parents anymore, but she’s now lying almost at the edge of the bed as her mama Narda took her spot.
She watches them with hearts coming out of her eyes.
Her mama and her mommy sleep with their limbs tangled, and her mom’s head resting on her mama’s chest. Looking so peaceful.
She’d rather stay up to watch her parents cuddle than succumbing back to slumber. She’s never going to trade having to see this sight than anything else in the world.
It makes her happy to see them fall back to old habits. Even though it’s probably all that is there now.
She wonders, do they even miss being with each other?
The moment they wake up, their consciousness taking control, is where it all ends.
Because Max can only offer band-aids to fix her severely infested wound of a family. She may not know why or how or when their once beautiful, loving relationship turn to this—
But she loves her parents, and she knows that their love for her can encompass anything and everything in the world.
And for now, it’s enough for Max.
(It’s not.)
(Everyday she still hopes for a miracle, that would lead her mama and her mommy back to each other.)
___