Edward in Love
“Where’s Ludi’s CP number you promised you’ll give to me? I am still waiting!” Edward’s text message, a demand I chose to ignore until he called. In a rush, I answered his call without checking the caller ID.
“Oh, sorry, Edward. I don’t have Ludi’s number!” I lied after recognizing his voice.
“You said the other day you have it. Never mind, forget it, I asked.” Edward’s tart reply, and hung up.
War be it! “Never mind, forget it” translates to “you’ll never hear from me again.”
Edward is a friend who, like me, has been shuttling between two cities (Vienna and Manila) since we retired from work seventeen years ago. Ludi is another friend, a balikbayan guest who was born and raised in Canada. She hardly speaks and understands Tagalog, our language. She and Edward met at my place back home. Edward was easily fascinated by her beauty: tall, tan, and relatively young, and lovely, as in the Girl from Ipanema, immortalized by the song with the same title. Edward could not get her off his system, and I found myself in the middle of their intriguing dynamic.
Edward was not in love, he insisted. It was a challenge, a conquest, but not love. Ludi was his latest puzzle, his most intriguing enigma. She was not the type to fall for Edward’s charm, and he knew it. But that only fueled his determination. His pursuit of Ludi was relentless, his confidence unwavering. He would show up at our gatherings, always impeccably dressed, and make sure to engage Ludi in conversation, often with a hint of flirtation. It was both amusing and exasperating to witness his persistent efforts.
Attaboy, my friend Edward–the gigolo who came to dinner last week at my place, immaculate in white (Oh, well, almost.) The white shirt and trousers were more of dirty white, like faded glory, you know. His white hat was Okay, as were the white shoes. His white SUV, a Fortuner, made up for the imperfection, never mind the dust it collected driving all the way from the country’s rice granary, where he has his house. He saw Ludi and, evidently, if I may use the old cliche, it was love at first sight–for Edward.
Edward, you see, is definitely not the face you would give a long-lasting look, kiss, and admire when you wake up in the morning while he is still asleep. He is not the body you would caress, never mind if you haven’t had sex for a million years. You may cuddle him, yes, why not, when the lights are out. He boasts about his family’s hectares of rice fields that stretch as far as the eye can see. And he talks loudly! The litany of why you would not fall for him is long. He is a piece of work, my friend Edward.
And yet the unpleasant facts about him tell a different story. After several affairs, a failed marriage, kids, and more kids with different women–career women and babysitters–there is no sign that the women will ever learn to resist the temptation that is Edward. His history of relationships, often tumultuous and short-lived, is a testament to his charm and the allure he holds for women. There must be something special, something beautiful about Edward that draws women to him like a moth to a flame, and burns! What could that be other than the truth that love works in strange ways? Search me! Oh, well, there will always be masochists and sadists in life.
In fairness (I can hardly believe I am actually saving this — a trendy expression that Kris Aquino, the queen of all media in the country, started, which everybody, including the village jueteng agent, quickly picked up and used incessantly, driving me nuts), Edward is a good guy, “mabait yan, kung kilala mo lang syang mabuti…in fairness” (he is nice, if you only knew him well…) is what you’ll hear said repeteadly from people who “knew him well.”
Give the chap a chance, which I did. It took me a while to warm up to him, but I did, and despite the arrogance he projects poker-faced, Edward is a lovely person you cannot resist hugging. And love! The minute you let him into your skin, then you’ll begin to make sense in the Beatles song that can help you appreciate Edward 101. It won’t be easy for beginners, but you can always try. And while at it, take that proverbial grain of salt.
I must have had a tablespoon when I woke up one day from a deep sleep and realized that we had become Kümpell (buddies), dabarkads, you know. Edward can mock us, his friends, all the time, and we give him the same treatment, yet no one gets offended. We always get a good laugh. I guess we happen to have a higher pain threshold than other people who find him offensive. Indeed, there we will always be masochists and sadists.
As for Ludi, Edward can chase her in his dreams. I care for both of them, but he is not getting her cell phone number. Not from me, not now, not ever!
A love story that has no end. Poor Edward.