Status: Complete
Romeo, Romeo, Grow a Pair, Dear Romeo
Part 1: Cinderella
You know those really cliché summer love stories? There's the girl who goes to some place that they don't want to go to, meets the guy and they fall in love but leave after the summer is over. My story is much, much different. It starts off with my grandmother's house. My grandmother lives on a hill, high, high on a hill near the ocean. My mother found it pertinent to bring me over there to do work that my grandmother was much too old to do. I didn't mind going over my grandmother's house, however.
Actually, I really liked it. I didn't know much about the Philippines, where my mom and her side of the family were from, and I didn't even know how to speak Tagalog, the native language, so I liked to learn from her. My mother taught me a few things like catch phrases, but my grandmother did a lot more than that. She taught me how to cook food and some of the different traditions the Filipinos practiced.
She lived with a lot of normal Americans--mainly white old people. She never minded. She would always greet them with a warm smile and a wave. Her house was large, three stories and all stories full of junk she had accumulated over the thirty odd years she had been in the country. That summer was the summer I was sixteen and going into my senior year of high school. I didn't have a job, mainly because no one would hire someone who had no experience. I never understood how someone won't hire a person without experience and doesn't give them a chance to gain experience. How is anyone supposed to get a job anywhere with mind-sets like that?
Anyway, I was sixteen and, to quote my step-father, an anomaly. Most sixteen year old already had a boyfriend and their license and a job and so on and so forth. I was without all three for all sixteen years of my life. I really had no intention of getting a boyfriend, though I did like boys, I just never acted on it, I had my permit but that's about as good as going into a store and giving a coupon with the expectation that would pay for all your groceries, and the job situation, well, we already know about that.
Four years prior to that summer, my aunt had given birth to two miracles whom we named Joshua and Nathaniel. I have a younger brother, Aaron, but he doesn't need me or even really wants me around. I was excited to have the boys in my life, which I now sort of regret. That summer, like the one before it, I was roped into babysitting the boys everyday of the summer at my grandmother's house while my aunt, uncle, mom and dad worked during the day. Aaron volunteered so he got out of sitting in my grandmother's large living room on warm days.
The boys and I had a good time, though. My grandmother had a large industrial fan that sat in the far right corner of her rectangular room to keep us cool on those blistering days in July when we couldn't. It sat next to a couch that was in front of a large window housing many odd varieties of cacti and dolls. The couch was never used due to the accrual of pillows that were placed on it. In the lower left corner of her living room was a long L shaped couch that would put you to sleep in minutes. To the left wall was another bed that my grandmother slept on, despite the fact that she had a perfectly good, brand new (well brand new ten years ago) queen sized mattress in a large room on the second floor.
The rest of the room was wide open, the hard wood floors covered by a large red ornamental rug that my aunt had given her for Christmas three or four years before. Her large, newly acquired 50 inch flat screen television stood on shelves her brother-on-law, Paul, a Filipino man who was married to her sister Rosalinda, otherwise known as Baby, seeing as how all Filipino families had a Baby and a Boy, had made for her many years before I was born.
The boys and I would play games or watch Caillou, Dinosaur Train, Word World and all that junk. I lived about a mile and a half from my grandmother so I walked everyday, sometimes I ran, and when I get to the top of her hill, I usually get greeted by a big yellow Labrador. When I first met the dog, it was running away. It was the first week after school had let out and I was rounding the corner of the smaller hill of the three one could take to get to the summit. I was walking up, my thighs burning from the steep incline, when I found it jogging down the street lazily, head swinging back and forth, tail wagging slowly. I stared at the dog as it walked up to me. It's tail began to wag crazily, the tongue hanging out excitedly.
"What are you doing out here? You should get back to your house." I said petting it gently. It's tail wagged before it barked again and I jumped a bit. I gave a shaky laugh before kneeling down before it. "Go home now, Bud." I urged as I looked around. "Which one's your home?" It turned around and ran to a big, blue house. It came back to me and barked again. "Is that your house? How about we bring you home?" The dog lead me to the front door and I pet it's head. It started to jump around, pushing me away from the front door. "You wanna play?" I asked with a chuckle. I looked down and grabbed a ball. I tossed it across the lawn and the dog sprinted after it. I took the chance to go up to the front door and knock on the door. Buddy, the name I decided to give the dog, came up to me and sat down, ball at my feet.
"Oh my goodness!" exclaimed the woman who owned Buddy. "How did you get out?" I smiled at her and looked down at the dog. It hung its head and I knelt down to pet Buddy gently. "I'm sorry, my dear. Did she bother you?" I shook my head with a wide smile.
"No, of course not. I found her and I just wanted to bring her home before she became missed."
"You're a sweetheart!" said the woman.
"No, not really." I said waving my hand around to hide my timid smile. "I really must be going. I'll see you around, Buddy." I said as I pet the dog's head gently. From then on, I would stop by during the day with the boys if the weather was good. The woman who owned Buddy, Mrs. Wright was her name, was happy to let me play with her.
On to the good stuff though. As I brought the boys across the street from my grandmother's house, just a week or two before summer ended, I noticed a boy was opening the passenger's door of a large gray truck just outside the house where Buddy lived. He and I met eyes and I offered him a small smile and a nod before leading the boys onto the porch to knock on the door. I didn't look back at the boy, though I wanted to. I wanted to see him again, just to observe and to get a real good look at him. I hadn't see him before, and if I had, I didn't remember, and so, could you blame me for being curious?
"Hello Mrs. Wright," I said to the 44 year old woman living in the house. "The boys and I have come to take Buddy for a walk." The dog barked from behind the door and the boys backed up to cling to my hands. I knelt down, seeing as how I was 5'8 and the boys were barely 3 feet tall, and pet their heads. "You're okay. How many times have we met Buddy before?" I looked up at the woman and nodded a little. Buddy rushed out and licked my face. I wrapped my arms around her neck and let her kiss me before pushing her muzzle down. "Bud, sit." The dog complied obediently and I looked at Joshua. "Pet her." Joshua clung to me and shook his head. "Nate?" He reached out and the dog sat, blinking. "She's like Bailey."
"Bailey?" they asked, confused.
"Your doggy." I explained. Joshua and Nate moved forward and pet her head. "You're a good dog, aren't you girl?" A man walked out of the house, smiling at me. "How're you?" I asked hypothetically.
"Good. How're you?" he replied before getting into the large truck and starting it up. I glanced over my shoulder and caught the boy's eyes again. This time, he smiled and nodded a little, to which I gave back. The man and boy drove off while the boys and I took the dog to the pumping station down the right side of the hill my grandmother lived on. It was a big sewage waste center that was surrounded by walkways and green fields. It had a nice look of the water that surrounded House Neck. Buddy and I ran around with the boys in the field and when they became hungry, we headed back to the blue house to drop of Buddy.
"You know," said a girl who was probably my age. She had long blond hair and deep green eyes. She had taken Buddy from me before and I couldn't remember her name for the life of me. "She doesn't do that with anyone else." I smiled a little and pet Buddy's head.
"We're special." I said to her, and the girl, before holding out my hands for the boys'. "Say bye to Buddy, boys."
"Bye Buddy." They said timidly while gripping my hands with their small ones. We waited on the side of the street while a familiar gray truck pulled up to the house. I smiled at the man and looked down at the boys to make sure they were alright.
"Look both ways," I instructed as we walked around the front of the truck. No cars came and we started forward. Not before the boy and I caught eyes again. From where I was, I could see his hair was a deep brown, not as dark as my hair but dark enough, and his eyes were either a light brown or a hazel color. I smiled again before following my cousins across the street and up the stairs of my grandmother's house. I looked back when I reached the top of the first set of stairs and found him looking. I smiled wide, fighting a chuckle, before going into the house to make food.
Actually, I really liked it. I didn't know much about the Philippines, where my mom and her side of the family were from, and I didn't even know how to speak Tagalog, the native language, so I liked to learn from her. My mother taught me a few things like catch phrases, but my grandmother did a lot more than that. She taught me how to cook food and some of the different traditions the Filipinos practiced.
She lived with a lot of normal Americans--mainly white old people. She never minded. She would always greet them with a warm smile and a wave. Her house was large, three stories and all stories full of junk she had accumulated over the thirty odd years she had been in the country. That summer was the summer I was sixteen and going into my senior year of high school. I didn't have a job, mainly because no one would hire someone who had no experience. I never understood how someone won't hire a person without experience and doesn't give them a chance to gain experience. How is anyone supposed to get a job anywhere with mind-sets like that?
Anyway, I was sixteen and, to quote my step-father, an anomaly. Most sixteen year old already had a boyfriend and their license and a job and so on and so forth. I was without all three for all sixteen years of my life. I really had no intention of getting a boyfriend, though I did like boys, I just never acted on it, I had my permit but that's about as good as going into a store and giving a coupon with the expectation that would pay for all your groceries, and the job situation, well, we already know about that.
Four years prior to that summer, my aunt had given birth to two miracles whom we named Joshua and Nathaniel. I have a younger brother, Aaron, but he doesn't need me or even really wants me around. I was excited to have the boys in my life, which I now sort of regret. That summer, like the one before it, I was roped into babysitting the boys everyday of the summer at my grandmother's house while my aunt, uncle, mom and dad worked during the day. Aaron volunteered so he got out of sitting in my grandmother's large living room on warm days.
The boys and I had a good time, though. My grandmother had a large industrial fan that sat in the far right corner of her rectangular room to keep us cool on those blistering days in July when we couldn't. It sat next to a couch that was in front of a large window housing many odd varieties of cacti and dolls. The couch was never used due to the accrual of pillows that were placed on it. In the lower left corner of her living room was a long L shaped couch that would put you to sleep in minutes. To the left wall was another bed that my grandmother slept on, despite the fact that she had a perfectly good, brand new (well brand new ten years ago) queen sized mattress in a large room on the second floor.
The rest of the room was wide open, the hard wood floors covered by a large red ornamental rug that my aunt had given her for Christmas three or four years before. Her large, newly acquired 50 inch flat screen television stood on shelves her brother-on-law, Paul, a Filipino man who was married to her sister Rosalinda, otherwise known as Baby, seeing as how all Filipino families had a Baby and a Boy, had made for her many years before I was born.
The boys and I would play games or watch Caillou, Dinosaur Train, Word World and all that junk. I lived about a mile and a half from my grandmother so I walked everyday, sometimes I ran, and when I get to the top of her hill, I usually get greeted by a big yellow Labrador. When I first met the dog, it was running away. It was the first week after school had let out and I was rounding the corner of the smaller hill of the three one could take to get to the summit. I was walking up, my thighs burning from the steep incline, when I found it jogging down the street lazily, head swinging back and forth, tail wagging slowly. I stared at the dog as it walked up to me. It's tail began to wag crazily, the tongue hanging out excitedly.
"What are you doing out here? You should get back to your house." I said petting it gently. It's tail wagged before it barked again and I jumped a bit. I gave a shaky laugh before kneeling down before it. "Go home now, Bud." I urged as I looked around. "Which one's your home?" It turned around and ran to a big, blue house. It came back to me and barked again. "Is that your house? How about we bring you home?" The dog lead me to the front door and I pet it's head. It started to jump around, pushing me away from the front door. "You wanna play?" I asked with a chuckle. I looked down and grabbed a ball. I tossed it across the lawn and the dog sprinted after it. I took the chance to go up to the front door and knock on the door. Buddy, the name I decided to give the dog, came up to me and sat down, ball at my feet.
"Oh my goodness!" exclaimed the woman who owned Buddy. "How did you get out?" I smiled at her and looked down at the dog. It hung its head and I knelt down to pet Buddy gently. "I'm sorry, my dear. Did she bother you?" I shook my head with a wide smile.
"No, of course not. I found her and I just wanted to bring her home before she became missed."
"You're a sweetheart!" said the woman.
"No, not really." I said waving my hand around to hide my timid smile. "I really must be going. I'll see you around, Buddy." I said as I pet the dog's head gently. From then on, I would stop by during the day with the boys if the weather was good. The woman who owned Buddy, Mrs. Wright was her name, was happy to let me play with her.
On to the good stuff though. As I brought the boys across the street from my grandmother's house, just a week or two before summer ended, I noticed a boy was opening the passenger's door of a large gray truck just outside the house where Buddy lived. He and I met eyes and I offered him a small smile and a nod before leading the boys onto the porch to knock on the door. I didn't look back at the boy, though I wanted to. I wanted to see him again, just to observe and to get a real good look at him. I hadn't see him before, and if I had, I didn't remember, and so, could you blame me for being curious?
"Hello Mrs. Wright," I said to the 44 year old woman living in the house. "The boys and I have come to take Buddy for a walk." The dog barked from behind the door and the boys backed up to cling to my hands. I knelt down, seeing as how I was 5'8 and the boys were barely 3 feet tall, and pet their heads. "You're okay. How many times have we met Buddy before?" I looked up at the woman and nodded a little. Buddy rushed out and licked my face. I wrapped my arms around her neck and let her kiss me before pushing her muzzle down. "Bud, sit." The dog complied obediently and I looked at Joshua. "Pet her." Joshua clung to me and shook his head. "Nate?" He reached out and the dog sat, blinking. "She's like Bailey."
"Bailey?" they asked, confused.
"Your doggy." I explained. Joshua and Nate moved forward and pet her head. "You're a good dog, aren't you girl?" A man walked out of the house, smiling at me. "How're you?" I asked hypothetically.
"Good. How're you?" he replied before getting into the large truck and starting it up. I glanced over my shoulder and caught the boy's eyes again. This time, he smiled and nodded a little, to which I gave back. The man and boy drove off while the boys and I took the dog to the pumping station down the right side of the hill my grandmother lived on. It was a big sewage waste center that was surrounded by walkways and green fields. It had a nice look of the water that surrounded House Neck. Buddy and I ran around with the boys in the field and when they became hungry, we headed back to the blue house to drop of Buddy.
"You know," said a girl who was probably my age. She had long blond hair and deep green eyes. She had taken Buddy from me before and I couldn't remember her name for the life of me. "She doesn't do that with anyone else." I smiled a little and pet Buddy's head.
"We're special." I said to her, and the girl, before holding out my hands for the boys'. "Say bye to Buddy, boys."
"Bye Buddy." They said timidly while gripping my hands with their small ones. We waited on the side of the street while a familiar gray truck pulled up to the house. I smiled at the man and looked down at the boys to make sure they were alright.
"Look both ways," I instructed as we walked around the front of the truck. No cars came and we started forward. Not before the boy and I caught eyes again. From where I was, I could see his hair was a deep brown, not as dark as my hair but dark enough, and his eyes were either a light brown or a hazel color. I smiled again before following my cousins across the street and up the stairs of my grandmother's house. I looked back when I reached the top of the first set of stairs and found him looking. I smiled wide, fighting a chuckle, before going into the house to make food.