Between Then and Now

CHAPTER FIVE

Ryan

“T his is pink,” I mutter, holding up the phone charger that Bon handed me. “And floral,” I add with a deadpan expression, eyeing her teasingly.

“Well, you didn’t give me specific instructions,” Bon retorts, crossing her arms and leaning casually against my car. Her hair is tied up in a small, playful ponytail that resembles a fountain on top of her head. When I scowl at her, she can’t help but tease me further. “Are you worried about your man card getting revoked?” she says, pouting exaggeratedly.

“Bonita, I’m a young, handsome doctor,” I quip, unable to resist a smile. “I could wear one of Kate’s dresses and still have a very intact man card.” I lean on the car opposite her, mimicking her position.

“Good. Now let’s see you actually talk to a girl, Mr. Intact-Man-Card,” Bon teases, her head swaying slightly with each syllable, the ponytail bobbing along.

“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?” I counter, trying to deflect her playful jab.

She shoots me a skeptical look. “I don’t count, loser.”

I chuckle. “Alright, fine… but seriously? Pink and floral? What’s next, a feather boa?” I hold out the charger in front of her, still amused by her choice. She grabs it and she tiptoes to loop the cord around my neck like a scarf.

“Think of it as a conversation starter. Some girl might find it cute,” Bon suggests with a wink.

“Or she might think it’s not mine and assume it belongs to my girlfriend,” I counter with a grin as I roll the cord into a neat, compact bundle .

“Even better, then,” she replies, patting me on the shoulder. She yawns widely, exaggerating her attempt to end the conversation. “I need to sleep, Miller, and so should you if you want to maintain your young, handsome doctor reputation. Good night.”

“Night, Bonbon. And you’re not fooling anyone, I know you’re still eating in there.” I watch as she strolls back into their house, her playful laughter lingering in the air.

Bon’s teasing sense of humor is something she likely inherited from Joshua. He’s older than most of us, but I always looked up to him and followed him around as a child. I like to think we’re close, in a way. He always had a knack for turning the most stressful moments into something humorous. If I’m being honest, it didn’t only rub off on Bon, it also rubbed off on me and my brother Richard. Though, of course, Richard is more out there with his sense of humor, whereas I had to get to know someone maybe seven layers deep to get out of my shell. Even with my girlfriends–all three of them–I wasn’t too open and playful. Maybe except for my college girlfriend, Kelly, whom I thought would stick around for quite some time, until she decided she had a thing for architects and left me for one.

The truth is, I always imagined med school as a potential place to meet someone special—someone who’s finally worth the effort of putting myself out there—but reality hit hard. The demands are overwhelming—the long hours, the relentless studying, and the constant pressure to perform. Dating feels like a luxury pushed to the back burner. I’m an introvert by nature, so social interactions drain me, and the time I do have gets consumed by academic commitments. The result? I admire Alexa from afar .

Before I hop into my car, I notice someone jogging by the sidewalks. I squint my eyes and realize that it’s Haley.

“Hey, Ry,” she says as she’s passing by.

“Haley, what’s with the late-night exercise?” I say as I open my car door.

She chuckles. “Oh, do I look like I’m exercising? Well, this is embarrassing.” She stops. “I was running to Lily’s to buy some ice cream.” Lily’s is our neighborhood convenience store that’s open 24/7.

I laugh at the irony and offer to give her a ride since Lily’s is closer to my street.

“Let me rephrase my question, Hale, what’s with the late-night ice cream run?” I ask as she buckles up.

“I just started watching Stranger Things,” she begins, her excitement palpable. “I thought I might like it, and surprise, surprise, I’m obsessed. I can’t stop watching. It’s so good! I even convinced Richard to watch it too. But I’m pretty sure he’s only watching so he can annoy me with terrible comments.” She laughs again. “And, well, I need some sugar to keep me company during my marathon sessions.”

Ah. That explains why my brother is rewatching the whole thing. Because that’s how it’s always been for him. Whatever Haley does, Richard follows. And yes, it’s usually just to annoy her by contradicting her opinions. Maybe he likes her, or maybe he just finds it amusing. We never really talk about it, but it’s something I always notice.

We arrive at Lily’s, the neon sign flickering in the darkness.

“Do you need a ride back? The ice cream might melt if you walk.”

“Oh, no. I’m actually planning to watch in there.” She holds up her tote bag, which I now notice contains a laptop. “ I’m feeling the place and I gotta keep the snacks close,” she says with a grin, and I understand what she means. Lily’s is unconventional as far as convenience stores go.

Inside, the aisles are lined up on one side, filled with everything from fresh produce to household essentials. The other side of the store is more of a lounge, a cozy space with mismatched but comfortable furniture. Plush armchairs and couches are scattered around, alongside a few small tables and even a couple of bean bags. Fairy lights strung across the ceiling create a warm, inviting ambiance.

Outside, the charm continues. The exterior of Lily's is painted a cheerful yellow, with flower boxes under the windows overflowing with vibrant blooms. Just outside the entrance, a spacious patio area features wooden benches and tables, each shaded by large, colorful umbrellas. The patio is bordered by neatly trimmed hedges and dotted with potted plants, adding a touch of greenery and a sense of privacy. Several clusters of Adirondack chairs surround low tables, creating intimate spaces where locals can relax and chat. Lights criss-cross above the patio, their soft glow enhancing the cozy, welcoming atmosphere. An old-fashioned lamppost stands at the corner, casting a gentle light over the scene and adding to the quaint, homey feel of the place.

The owner, Manang Linda, as vicious and gossipy as she is, has a knack for making everyone feel welcome. She’s set up a coffee and tea station in one corner, complete with an array of cookies and pastries she claims she baked herself, though we all know she commissions them from Kate. It’s a not-so-secret secret among the residents. The cookies and pastries are always in high demand, and by nighttime, there are usually only a few crumbs left. Despite this, the lounge area remains a favorite hangout spot for everyone in Magnolia Heights.

I say goodbye to Haley, watching her settle in for an evening of binge-watching. As I drive home, it strikes me that I can’t remember the last time I indulged in watching a show, a movie, or anything that requires me to sit and stare at a screen for two hours straight. It’s not just a matter of preference; it’s a matter of time—or rather, the lack of it.

Med school consumes my days and nights with its relentless demands. Even my weekends get sacrificed to catch up on reading or prepare for exams. It’s not just the lack of time that's an issue; it’s my prioritization dilemma. My brain is conditioned to use every bit of free time productively, so when I finally get a minute to spare, I head to the gym, catch up on sleep, or spend time with family and friends. The idea of sitting down to watch a show feels almost indulgent, a luxury I can’t afford. It’s frustrating because I miss the me I was before I signed up for this extended education torture.

As I open the door to our house, I spot my brother rushing out.

“It’s ten in the evening. Where are you going?” I ask.

“Lily’s. Later,” he replies, zooming out the door.

I shake my head with a smile and step inside, closing the door behind me. Living with my family is a deliberate choice; we’ve embraced Filipino culture, where family ties and neighborhood connections are cherished and close-knit.

My parents decided to move here from Minnesota when I was seven. Initially, they just wanted to escape the cold since my dad’s metal knee would hurt during the brutal winters. But after their vacation here all those years ago, my parents fell in love with the place. And not just because of the warm weather, but the warmth of the people. Here, age doesn’t matter; it’s normal, accepted, and even encouraged to live with family without any judgment.

When my mom passed away five years ago, I thought we’d return to the States, but dad insisted that he preferred to stay here. But I encourage him every now and then to take a vacation to the US to see his brothers and his friends. He’s actually there right now, staying with our uncle in Los Angeles. At first I thought he only decided on continuing to live here for Richard and me, trying to maintain our normalcy, but I can tell now, that no matter where he goes, his heart is anchored here. Like mom’s. Like ours.

I am late to the briefing, but I make it just in time to hear the important announcements. As I slip into the back of the room, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, I catch the authoritative voice resonating through the air.

“We are organizing a post-pandemic and post-typhoon medical mission in Batanes, one of the most remote—albeit beautiful—islands in the Philippines,” announces Dr. Fernandez, one of the hospital’s board members. She’s pointing to the projector which is currently flashing a slide with photos of Batanes. Breathtaking, even in photographs. The pandemic has really taken a toll on this country, and if Metro Manila suffered, I can only imagine how much worse it must have been for the remote islands.

I find myself leaning in, eager to catch every word. The idea of Batanes intrigues me. “The cases in Batanes are actually very low compared to other places, but this outreach is also established to address other diseases and effects of the many typhoons that hit them. Many people have no access to vaccines and basic healthcare, and the Batanes General Hospital partnered with us to assist in providing these,” she says as the slide now shows photos of the residents and the general hospital.

“We need volunteers from various specialties,” Dr. Fernandez continues, scanning the room with a discerning eye. “Doctors, nurses, and support staff who are willing to dedicate their time and skills to help these communities get back on their feet.” She hands a clipboard with an empty sign-up sheet to the doctor beside her. “If you’re interested, write your name on this volunteer sheet and we’ll keep you posted. As new resident doctors, you are the ones who probably need and want to be involved in these kinds of advocacies.”

The clipboard begins its journey around the room, and I notice Alexa smile and write her name on the sheet. Seeing her volunteer sparks something in me. Batanes has always been on my bucket list, and the chance to visit while doing something worthwhile—and potentially getting to know Alexa better—is too good to pass up.

“The mission will last for a month, and we will be providing vaccinations, medicines, medical check-ups, and more,” Dr. Fernandez explains in the background. I am only half-listening as I eagerly wait for the clipboard to reach me. When it finally does, I quickly scribble my name down.

As the briefing continued, my mind drifted to thoughts of Batanes. I imagined the rolling hills, the serene beaches, and the warm smiles of the locals. This mission would be more than just a professional challenge; it would be a personal adventure and a chance to make a tangible difference in people's lives.

The briefing eventually comes to an end, and as people start to leave, I linger for a moment, lost in my thoughts. The weight of the decision I just made begins to settle in. Volunteering for this mission means stepping out of my comfort zone, facing challenges head-on, and immersing myself in an unfamiliar environment. It’s daunting, but also incredibly exhilarating. And I honestly need the push to improve myself once and for all.

Maybe this will be a good decision.