He just finished packing his things at about 2:30 pm. His flight was set at 8:30 pm. His wife was hurriedly packing her own luggage, too. She would later take the night trip, Cubao to Naga, after sending him off to the airport.
A sentimental Tagalog song was playing over the MP3 player. He danced to the music.
“You really move like that Robitussin man,” she laughed, while continually arranging things in her bag.
“No, no!” he objected as he would in the past. “Not a semblance. Look at my biceps, pectorals, abdominals.”
“You may not look like him but you move like him.”
They laughed.
Suddenly, he pulled her up by the hand. She obliged. He raised her hand over her head and turned her around twice to the rhythm of the music.
He gently pushed her away without letting go of her hand then pulled her swiftly close to him, her back to his chest.
He wrapped his left arm around her abs towards her right waist. He slid his right foot away. She bent backwards by the knee facing the ceiling, his right hand supporting her back.
He looked down at her face, her body still partially suspended diagonally.
“See you in Ohio,” he said. Then, he kissed her.
He pulled her back upright. They embraced each other as they swayed to the music. Tears fell.
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
...
September 7, 2006; 9.04 am
PR112 PAL Manila to LA
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