Changing Lanes

forget me not series – The Romance of Ayin & Will

CHAPTER FIVE

One time, at a previous job, she hesitated about accepting a team lead promotion.

Though capable, she was intimidated by her seniors and felt she still lacked the experience.

Her mentor turned her life around by giving her this advice:

“Don’t overthink.
Indecision causes work paralysis.
When in doubt or you don’t know the answer, just follow the path of least resistance.
And, as imperfect as we people are — even your bosses — if you do make a big mistake, there is no shame in correcting it, or even going back to start all over again.
Just learn from it and become a better driver for your team.
The point is to keep moving with your goal in mind.”

Since then, this guiding principle has carried her through her career.

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On a Wednesday, at the parking lot, inside the training car …

Her, “I thought I won’t be seeing you again.”

Him, “I still owe you coffee.”

Her, “You said you don’t regularly teach anymore.”

Him, “Mm.”

Her, “Your other instructor not back yet?”

Silence as he rotated his shoulder.

Her, “What’s wrong with your shoulders?

Him, “Gym. Last night.”

Her, “So you came back after you dropped her off?”

Silence. Then, a groan.

She tried to contain her laughter as she watched him roll and gently massage his shoulders.

Her annoyance from last time has abated, thanks to her evening run and the fact that he looked too pitiful today.

Obviously, the man wasn’t used to exercising and overdid it on his first try at the gym.

Her, “Are you sure you’re up to teaching right now?”

He looked at her as if it was a no-brainer. “I can teach even with no sleep.”

She snorted.

Her, “You ready yet?”

She expected him to switch places so she can take over the driver’s seat.

Him, “I was born ready.”

She rolled her eyes.

He adjusted his black cap firmly in place and started the car. “I’ll drive. Let’s go to the busiest street in Mandaue. Will show and teach you about traffic management today.”

“What’s that?”

“U-turns, backing, changing lanes, familiarizing yourself with traffic signs…,” he droned, completely in teacher mode now like he was not sore all over.

In his signature calm, steady voice, the lecture began.

“When driving, find the path of least resistance. Once you sit down to drive, you should know already your destination and the best route to it to avoid delays or obstacles. As much as possible, avoid unnecessary changes or last minute decisions.”

He turned his head briefly to see her nod.

“But then, we’re only human and often make mistakes. Even our roads are not perfect. So, whether we like it or not, we often find ourselves in the path of resistance, or what we call as…”

His voice trailed off as he waited for her to guess.

Ever the nerdy student, she eagerly answered, “Traffic!”

She pointed up ahead to the slow moving, bumper-to-bumper line of cars and said, “Just like that.”

He nodded in approval. “Correct. So, we should know how to deal with it.”

The man loves to teach and is prone to sermon, she mused.

She’s enjoying it though for she could totally relate, especially when he turned philosophical.

Him, “Just like in life, we question – how do we go back when we meet a dead-end?

How do we turn our life around when we make a mistake?

How do we read the signs of the universe correctly so we won’t fail our mission?”

He grinned at her. “This is the session for that.”

Turning to a side street, he proceeded to teach her when and how to maneuver the one-point, two-point, and three-point U-turn.

She didn’t realize there were so many ways to turn, depending on the situation.

The car mirrors, as guide, played a big factor in every successful turn.

Thankfully, after her previous reverse session, she was getting the hang of using them.

The more challenging part for her came next — how do you get out or change lanes when cruising on a major highway?

He said as he proceeded to demonstrate, “As much as possible, avoid changing lanes. But if you do, one – think about it first if you really need to.

Two – check your mirrors and consider the cars around you.

Then, when you’re ready to make your move, three – this is very important – signal your intention.”

She watched as he lightly pushed the side lever and the car’s green right signal lit up and started clicking. She was mesmerized by the sound of it, like the musical tapping of an old clock.

He added firmly, “Once you signal, be decisive about it. Don’t keep changing your mind or stop midway or you’ll be honked to death, especially by road ragers.”

Glancing at her serious face, he continued lightly, “It’s just like courting someone. One, be selective and know if you really like her. Two, approach only if she’s free. And three, say your intentions right away. Don’t keep changing your mind.”

She chuckled and slightly relaxed at his analogy. “Not bad. And so true.”

Nothing makes a girl madder than an ambiguous guy who blows hot and cold. For men too, this truth goes both ways.

After a couple of hours were spent, she was almost dizzy from all the turning.

In sympathy, he asked, “You ready for coffee?”

She looked him in the eye and with a straight face, tossed his line back at him, “I was born ready.”

He laughed, then said, “Let’s have dinner first.”

It could have been the instructor in him, but she’s beginning to notice that he has this way of telling her what to do, instead of asking, even after class has finished.

The old her would have been offended. She normally hated anyone making plans for her without her consent or prior knowledge. But this time, she didn’t mind. She was hungry as well.

She was about to suggest her favorite Japanese food, but without asking for her opinion, he drove to a roadside open-air barbecue joint named Matias.

She has heard of it, but it was her first time there.

“They’ve got the best barbecue in the area. You eat meat, right?” he asked as he parked swiftly and turned off the engine.

Then, without waiting for her answer, got out of the car and scanned the area for an open table.

The scent of grilled barbecue wafted inside the car. Her mouth began to water. Must be worth it, she thought.

She waited for a beat for him to open the passenger door for her like a gentleman.

He didn’t.

He was already walking towards an empty table for two he found at a corner and motioning for her to follow.

Bugoy, she thought. It’s a term she uses loosely to refer to someone who is rough around the edges but not necessarily bad.

She slowly got out and heard the double bark of the car doors remotely closing. She followed him.

“Good thing we’re here earlier than the dinner crowd or we’d never get a table,” he said. “What do you like?”

“Um… anything. Maybe their bestseller?”

He nodded once. Then without asking further, proceeded to the grilling station.

Alone, she looked around. True enough, even at this hour, almost all the tables were already occupied. She saw some couples, barkadas, and office workers talking animatedly over beer and barbecue.

Reggae music was playing through the speakers up on a tree, and from time to time, boisterous laughter somewhere would drown it out.

She liked the vibe. People looked comfortable here.

She glanced back at the grilling station to check on him. She wasn’t surprised to find him laughing and talking to the man behind the grill like they were old friends.

Maybe, he really is his friend, she thought, or this guy can simply talk to anyone. She instinctively smiled as she saw him laughing again.

Several minutes later, he came back with their orders — a mix of pork, chicken, intestines and liver. They looked juicy enough. There was also a bunch of half dozen puso (the local hanging rice wrapped in leaves, in diamond form) on the side.

“I didn’t order sodas since we’ll be drinking coffee after,” he told her.

She just nodded, reminded that she was prone to hyper acidity.

“You wash your hands over there. This is best eaten with bare hands,” he pointed at the makeshift sink by the tree. “I’ll get us some water.”

After washing her hands, she sat down and grabbed the chicken liver first, then the pork. She nodded in approval. It was one of the tastiest barbecue she had eaten.

She discovered that, while he loved to lecture in class, he did not like to talk while eating.

When she tried to lure him into conversation, he just grunted in response.

So for the next few minutes, they ate in silence, just letting the music and snippets of loud conversation flow over them.

She looked up to see the white half moon and the evening stars already out.

A beautiful night, she thought.

After dinner, they transferred to the same coffee shop they previously agreed on at Oakridge, which was just a few blocks across the street.

As they entered the fully air-conditioned lounge, he intoned in a GPS-like voice, “After several U-turns, we’ve finally reached our destination.”

She laughed at his teasing grin.

“Ok Sir, pay up,” she told him. “Cafe Americano for me, please.”

He ordered a Mocha for himself. As an afterthought, he added the Oreo cheesecake he saw her eyeing on the cake display glass a few minutes ago.

“For you,” he said.

“I’m still deciding if I should have it,” she half-protested.

“It’s done. Don’t lose the opportunity. It’s free.”

He may not be your typical gentleman but she was beginning to appreciate his decisive nature.

Frankly, after years of living independently and working as a team leader, it felt kind of nice to have someone else make the decisions for a change, at least in the little things.

“Are you sure this isn’t too much? You already paid for dinner,” she said.

“No big deal.”

“Hmm, someone’s too kind and rich,” she teased.

“You’re right.” He deadpanned, “Didn’t you know I have a heart of gold? You can mine it anytime.”

She laughed. She gets him. She was getting used to his corny jokes.

“Too cold and noisy in here, let’s take the alfresco area,” he suggested, though it wasn’t a question mark.

As they settled on a small table with their orders, he took out a cigarette pack and lighter from his pocket.

So, he had another motive for sitting outside, she thought.

“Do you smoke?” he asked.

“No, I quit three years ago.”

“Do you mind?” he gestured with his lighter.

“No,” she said, just like how she wanted others not to mind whenever she smoked years ago.

“This helps me relax with coffee,” he said. She nodded in understanding.

Smoking reminded her of one of the craziest and darkest period of her life. She remembered then that whenever she would be anxious and feel her heart tighten over a painful emotional something, lighting up a stick would calm her down somewhat.

In her mind she knew it was the other way around, but the act of breathing in deeply and slowly exhaling smoke made her feel like she was releasing the negatives and toxins from her body as well, thus making her feel better.

Does he feel the same way, too? She watched him as he flicked the lighter.

It was her first time to see him smoke. She wondered about his story. Is he married? In a relationship?

“Sir Will, let me add you on Facebook,” she said on impulse, taking out her phone. “I might have some driving questions later after my course. You will still entertain my questions, right?”

“Um, I don’t have Facebook.”

Shocked, she could only stare at him for a moment.

She narrowed her eyes. “No Facebook or you just don’t want to be friends with me so I can’t bother you with questions?” she asked suspiciously.

Except for her parents, she didn’t know anyone else who doesn’t have Facebook.

He smiled, “I really don’t have one.”

Then, after some thought, he amended, “Or at least, I’m not active. My secretary tried creating an account for me a year ago, but I never updated it. Too troublesome. I’ve forgotten the password now.”

She put down her phone on the table. How was she going to research him now?

“You can always call me at the office if you have any questions,’ he added.

So old-fashioned, this guy. Aside from official calls to offices or agencies, she couldn’t remember the last time she used a landline for personal chats. She’d stayed connected with friends mostly through SMS or FB messenger.

“So how do you keep in touch with your friends? You don’t get updated with what’s going on with them?”

“Do I have to?” he shrugged. “We meet for drinks and see each other face to face every now and then. That’s more than enough to catch up.”

She just shook her head. She teased, “You’re so old fashioned, you must belong to the earlier generation. Unlike us young ones, we post every life event as it happens, almost everyday. It’s fun and it keeps you updated with what and how people are doing with their lives. It keeps your personal relationships going.”

Curious, he asked, “Do you really post about your everyday life? Isn’t that tiresome? And to read about people’s life, too?” He shook his head. “Too much information.”

“Not when you make friends with interesting people,” she retorted. “Besides, you can control your feed, too. Here, look.”

She proceeded to show him her Facebook and how to use the app’s features and set preferences.

To his credit, though he wasn’t too thrilled with it, he thoughtfully listened to her lengthy demonstration and made no negative comments.

When she finally wrapped up and asked him, “See, isn’t it amazing?”

His only answer was, “Mm.”

She took it to mean he still wasn’t interested. Oh well, to each his own.

She took a sip of her coffee and tasted the cake.
“Mmm, this is good. You want some?”

“That’s all yours. I’m not really into sweets. This is enough sugar for me,” he tapped his cafe mocha.

She shrugged and continued eating. He continued smoking and quietly drinking his coffee.

For the next few minutes, they stayed that way in companionable silence, each lost to their own thoughts.

She was surprised it didn’t feel awkward not talking at all. In her line of work, she was used to entertaining guests and making small talk. Like a social butterfly, no one was to be left unattended. There was always news or an event to be told.

He, on the other hand, didn’t require mindless conversation. In a way, she was grateful. It was refreshing to be able to simply sit with someone and just… be.

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Later that evening, Ayin went to her sister’s bedroom and plopped on her bed.

She observed for a few minutes while her sister did her nightly ritual of cleansing, toning and moisturizing.

Her sister May is six years older than her, but more kikay. And, with an ever growing network from work as an HR executive head, she was a good source of gossip or chika, too.

“Do you know the owner of the driving school?” she finally asked.

“Teacher Will?” her sister tried to remember. “I just met him once. He was my teacher for one session.”

She added, “It’s my former office mate who knows him, the one who recommended the school to me last year. He was also a driving student and now his insurance agent.”

“Do you know if he’s married?”

Her sister paused. “If I remember correctly, I think he’s separated. I heard his wife remarried abroad.”

She narrowed her eyes, “Who told you?”

“The man himself,” her sister retorted. “He mentioned it in passing when we talked about my office mate and insurance benefits.”

Ayin frowned. How come her sister always manages to know the juicy stuff when she was supposed to be the former journalist?

“Kids?” she probed.

“That I do not know.”

Then, with a sudden gleam in her eye, her sister asked, “Why are you asking all this? Do you like him?”

Without saying a word, she got up, approached the dresser and leaned down to wrinkle her face at her sister’s mirror.

As she straightened and reached for the door, she answered, “I don’t know.”

Or at least, she wasn’t ready to admit it yet.

As Will aptly taught her earlier, she’s not moving to any lane until she knows he’s free.

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