The woman began attacking Mi-chan almost as soon as the family was seated around the mango wood table on the patio. During their first meeting only the week before, Juan Carlos had been taught by Eduardo to treat Mi-chan with respect, but his wife was not a fast learner.
Christine’s line of attack was the pregnancy. Under the pretext of being happy for Ayumi, she seized every opportunity to draw attention to the healthy size of the bride’s stomach, considering that she had been married for only a few weeks. Her remarks injured Eduardo’s pride, his amor proprio; the Filipino sense of embarrassment and shame, called hiya, was deeply ingrained in him.
Mi-chan, who understood the Asian concept of ‘face’ perfectly, sensed that her husband was not in a position to put Christine in her place without losing even more face. For his sake, she concentrated on maintaining a sweet, calm and respectful demeanour.
Old Man Queral liked the way Mi-chan was holding on to her dignity.
Unlike Christine, who was rapidly approaching what Filipino culture calls the napasubo, the ominous ‘point of no return’ in social conflict; the aunts, uncles and cousins at the table were already looking embarrassed and uncomfortable.
He had thought well of Eduardo’s young bride from the moment she had greeted him instinctively with a mano po, a simple but meaningful gesture which Juan Carlos’ wife had never bothered to perform.
Just as he was about to say something firm to Christine to put a stop to the nonsense once and for all, Mi-chan spoke up. ‘Grandfather, I feel very embarrassed to present myself at your house in this condition.’ She added, wistfully, ‘My stomach is so big. O-negai shimasu; I am sorry.’
Her words snapped every head in her direction. Including the household staff. The head of the family raised his glass to his new granddaughter-in-law and smiled at her. ‘ Hija,’ he said, ‘all that matters to me is that both you and the baby are well. I have never seen my grandson so happy before. And he is no fool.’
In an instant, the old man’s gracious words made Christine’s pointed remarks appear indelicate, and even uncouth. The formal afternoon tea continued without further incident.
Mi-chan enjoyed her stay at the Spanish-style colonial house where she spent her time getting to know the grandfather who had shaped her husband’s character, and gaining a feel for the rhythms of life in Central Visayas, which was colourful and lush beyond anything she had imagined when she had chosen to make tropical Singapore her home.
The honeymoon in Cebu showed her a side of her husband which she had not known when they were in Europe. He seemed more playful-and, well, Asian-in the Philippines, especially when he spoke in Filipino.
She could not bring herself to tease him when, on the very first day of their stay, he had approached her, looking sheepish, and handed her a small cloth pouch containing a knob of ginger and a few coins, which one of the older servants had asked him to keep close to her pillow as protection against the asuwang, a deadly supernatural creature which is believed to feed on pregnant women and their unborn children after dark.
His lovemaking was sweeter and rougher and deeper in the New World; the long and quiet siesta period every afternoon was always well-used by them. The Japanese pregnancy girdle was unwound every day between two and four in the afternoon. He enjoyed the pregnant sex so much that he even entertained inappropriate thoughts of keeping Mi-chan embarazada all the time.
During their honeymoon on the hacienda, Eduardo and his new bride went at it like Sikalak and Sikabay, the Adam and Eve of the Visayas creation myth, who made so many babies that the pale-skinned Spanish conquistadors who arrived in the 16th century were initially believed to be the descendants of Aryon, the son who had travelled north to lands so cold that the winds there had blown all good sense out of his head.
One hot afternoon, a few days into the honeymoon, Mi-chan sent her husband off to play golf with his friends, under the pretext that she needed to rest.
Eduardo returned to the house sun-burned and sweaty and happy after 18 holes of golf at the course in Danao City.
He found a note from her on the bed. ‘Out shopping with Tita Ernesta.
Back at 4.00. See you-Mi-chan.’ Grinning, he headed for the shower, leaving the bathroom door ajar so that he could hear his wife letting herself in, exactly 30 minutes later. For she was always punctual, even in the Philippines, where timekeeping was elastic.
Eduardo hummed under the cool water as he soaped himself, feeling very pleased with himself for having been intelligent enough to marry a young woman who had a wise old head on her slim shoulders, and tastes which were such a good match for his hungers. Drying himself off with a towel, he stepped into the bedroom and was so startled to see his wife standing there that he bit his lip.
Mi-chan had her hair in a ponytail, and she was wearing a cheerleader outfit, a very distinctive one in a rich shade of Marian Blue, which he knew well from his days at the Ateneo de Manila-right down to the white shoes and socks. He wondered how she even knew about the famous cheerleaders of his alma mater’s Ateneo Blue Eagles.
When he approached her, she signalled to him to stop. He obeyed.
Hoisting one small, white-clad foot onto a chair, she pretended to adjust a shoelace, exposing a great deal of fair silky thigh and a sliver of navy blue panties.
Smiling naughtily, Mi-chan shocked his stiff penis to full attention by executing a near-perfect herkie for him to see. On landing, she took two graceful steps forward, lifted one long leg, and rested a neatly be-socked ankle on his shoulder, allowing the skimpy pleats of her skirt to plunge to her crotch. She was very agile despite the expanding stomach, which was already quite solid and growing by the day.
Kissing his new wife very deeply on the mouth, Eduardo used his hands to rub her between her supple legs over the dark blue cotton of her panties, lingering at the very damp spot just below her clit.
Mi-chan decided that it was time to progress matters. Removing her ankle from his shoulders, she kept the hungry Spaniard back with one slim arm held straight out, and leaned back until her lovely ass was resting against the edge of the small table where Mrs Hizon had laid out a tray of fruit and tea things.
Eduardo stepped forward very quickly and dropped to his knees in front of her. He was still naked and damp from the shower; he had lost his towel and his solid pokochin was pointing straight ahead.
Pulling the panties down those tender thighs, and leaving them beached at her knees, he began to work on his wife with his mouth. Using both thumbs to stretch her sweet baby lips lengthwise, he flicked his tongue firmly along, and even into, the lips which were being pulled gently taut, making her shudder and mew as he ate and drank her hungrily.
Once again, Mi-chan changed gears for both of them. Kicking off her white sneakers, she gripped the sides of his head hard and pushed him and his prickly blue chin back far enough to place one small foot against his chest and push him back onto his heels.
The white sock travelled steadily from his very Spanish chest down to his groin, where she used her foot to play with his chinchin-san until Little Eduardo was furiously hard. The husband gripped her lower thigh with his hand, making her shiver as he stroked and squeezed the soft back of her knee.
Eduardo broke free of Mi-chan’s leg, rising to his feet above her so quickly that he was able to make her gasp sharply by spinning her around and flipping up her tiny skirt. He gripped her firmly with one arm around her waist, trapping her, as he bent her-and that belly of hers-forward over the desk.