The eighth month had officially turned the Black Box into a psychological thriller. While I was technically on bed rest, my hormones were on a cross-country marathon, and unfortunately for Keifer, he was the only target in my sights.
It was 10:00 PM. The master suite was dim, scented with lavender to "calm" me, but I felt like a tea kettle about to whistle. Keifer was sitting on the edge of the bed, his laptop open, trying to quietly finish a report.
"Why are you typing so loudly?" I snapped, sitting up abruptly. "It sounds like you're building a skyscraper in my ear, Keifer."
He stopped mid-keystroke, his hands hovering over the keyboard. "I'm barely touching the keys, weify. I'm using the silent membrane."
"Oh, so now I'm a liar? Now the doctor with the sharpest hearing in the Philippines is imagining things?" I felt the hot prickle of tears. "You just want to finish that report so you can ignore me and the twins. You probably wish you were back in the office with your 'silent' secretaries!"
"Honey, no—" Keifer started, closing the laptop instantly.
"Don't 'honey' me! You looked at that laptop with more love than you looked at my left ankle this morning!" I sobbed into a silk pillow. "You're tired of me because I look like a giant stuffed panda!"
Keifer looked at the ceiling, praying for patience. He moved to hug me, but I pushed his hands away. "Don't touch me! Your hands are too... warm. It's offensive
The Culinary Abomination
Ten minutes later, the crying stopped as if a faucet had been turned off. I wiped my face and looked at him with an intensity that made him visibly flinch.
"I'm hungry," I stated.
"Anything, weify. I'll wake up the chef. Steak? Pasta? The organic kale salad?"
"No," I said, my voice dropping to a low, scary whisper. "I need Lechon. But it has to be dipped in cold condensed milk. And I want a bowl of Vanilla Ice Cream mixed with Soya Sauce and Tomato Sauce... poured over a mountain of Garlic Rice."
Keifer actually turned a slight shade of grey. "Jay... as a surgeon... surely you know that those ingredients are enemies. They are not meant to meet."
"Are you denying me, hubby?" I narrowed my eyes. "Are you telling Alexander and Aurora that their father is too lazy to mix some sauce?"
The Kitchen Crisis
Keifer scrambled downstairs. I followed him, waddling slowly but with purpose. In the kitchen, Keigan and Keiran were sneaking a midnight snack of cereal. They froze when they saw the look on Keifer's face.
"Get the Lechon leftovers," Keifer commanded his brothers, his voice trembling with the stress of a man on the edge. "And find the condensed milk. Now!"
"Lechon and... milk?" Keigan gagged. "Kuya, are you okay? Has she been possessed?"
"Shut up and stir the ice cream!" Keifer hissed.
I sat at the kitchen island, tapping my fingers. Keifer presented the first plate: Crispy Lechon skin dripping with thick, sugary condensed milk. I took a bite.
"It's... it's missing something," I said, my lip trembling again. "Why is it so crunchy? Are you trying to break my teeth so I can't talk to you anymore?"
"It's Lechon! It's supposed to be crunchy!" Keifer cried out, finally snapping for a split second.
I burst into fresh wails. "HE'S YELLING AT ME! MUMMA IS BEING BULLIED!"
Keigan and Keiran immediately jumped in. "Kuya! Why are you yelling at her?! She's a planet right now! Just give her the tomato-soya-rice!"
The Ultimate Taste Test
Keifer, looking completely defeated, mixed the Vanilla Ice Cream with Soya Sauce and Tomato Sauce. The resulting liquid was a brownish-pink sludge. He poured it over the hot Garlic Rice and handed me a spoon.
The whole family watched in a mixture of horror and fascination.
I took a big scoop of the cold, salty, tangy, sweet rice and shoved it into my mouth. I followed it with a piece of the milky Lechon.
"Oh my god," I breathed, my face glowing with pure ecstasy. "This is the best thing I've ever tasted. Keifer, you're a genius."
Keifer leaned against the counter, rubbing his temples. "I'm a criminal, Jay. I've just committed a crime against gastronomy."
"Want a bite, babe?" I offered a dripping spoonful of tomato-vanilla rice.
"I would rather walk through a fire," he said flatly.
"See!" I screamed, the mood swinging back to anger instantly. "YOU HATE MY CULTURE! YOU HATE MY TASTE! YOU THINK I'M WEIRD!"
I threw the spoon into the sink and marched—well, waddled—back toward the stairs. "I'm sleeping in the nursery! With the teddy bears! They don't judge my rice!"
"Jay! Weify! Wait!" Keifer shouted, running after me.
The Midnight Apology
Thirty minutes later, Keifer found me curled up in the nursing chair in the nursery, crying silently while holding a tiny Aurora-sized onesie.
He knelt at my feet, resting his head on my knees. "I'm sorry, honey. I'll eat the rice. I'll eat the whole bowl if it makes you stop crying."
You... you will?" I sniffled.
"Yes. And I'll buy the restaurant that makes the Lechon and turn it into a Lechon-Milk franchise if that's what you want," he promised, his voice exhausted but infinitely tender. "Just please... come back to bed. I miss my 'Starlight,' even when she's a little bit of a 'Monster.'"
I reached down and ruffled his hair. "I don't want you to eat the rice anymore, hubby. It actually sounds kind of gross now."
Keifer let out a laugh that was half-sob. "Thank god."
He carried me back to our room, tucked me into the fortress of pillows, and stayed awake for another hour just stroking my hair until the twins and I finally drifted into a peaceful, non-aggressive sleep.