Her name is Ligaya

There is a box of pizza on the kitchen counter, along with French dictionaries, various car keys and a potted plant that recently decided to live again. Amdist it all, the lone cordless phone that works rings. It's my mother, long-distance from Texas.

"Hi," she says.
"Hi," I say.
"Um, you know my green bag? The one that's got all my stuff in it? I'm pretty sure it's in the truck. Is your brother home?"
"Uh, no, he's out."
"OK, the bag's definitely in there. I need you to get it and get a FedEx envelope."
"OK... Jeric's not here and I'm not sure when he's going to be home."
"I know," my mother says. "I just called his cellphone and I think he turned it off. Anyway, can you get in touch with him and ask him when he's coming home? And then get back to me."

My brother comes home a few minutes later. I was going to take a shower, but then lost all energy once I grabbed my towel and headed for the bathroom. Instead, I head outside to the truck and grab my mother's green bag. I go back in the house, call her, and she instructs me to take the contents of the FedEx envelope and fax it to her.

Since we do not have a fax machine in the house, I take the keys to my father's office and I yell at my sister to get off her ass and come with me. The moment we stepped in the car, gray clouds rushed to loom above us like the proverbial "rain cloud over your head." If I were a cartoon character, I would be Grumpy the Carebear, or Grumpy the Dwarf. It didn't start pelting fat drops of rain until after we left the office, but that doesn't happen until later.

On the way to the office, I recognize the girl driving behind us as someone who went to my high school.

"Shit, what the shit is her name? Uh... Lee! No... Sheila?"

It quite possibly was the stupidest thing to worry about at that moment, but it plagued me.

We arrive at the office, where I successfully disarm the alarm. There was a few seconds of panic, with an automated voice barking "Door open. Alarm is armed," and my finger hovering to look for the button marked 'Off.' My sister heads to a computer, saying she might as well surf the 'net while I did the bitch work.

Putting my mother on speakerphone, I pull out the documents from the FedEx envelope. A sense of accomplishment was faint in me; like pulling a scab neatly or remembering to close the windows in the car before it rained.

She picks up after four rings. "Ma, I've got your stuff here," I tell her. "By the way, you have to clean out your voicemail."
"Hi," she says. "Yeah, I know. Oh, and guess what. I don't need those documents faxed anymore."

In the other room, my sister starts cracking up.

"What?" I say.
"Well, I was trying to get this woman to fax it to me, and she's just started faxing it to me now."
"Let me get this straight," I say. "You don't need me to fax anything."
"Nope."
"So I came here for nothing."
"Well, the woman's faxing what I need, so, no."

We head back to the car. Overhead, the clouds are pregnant and soon the car is hit with fat, angry drops of rain. We drive back home, but stop briefly at the library where I borrow a French movie (with the stalwart of French cinema, Gerard Depardieu). I have yet to take my shower, it is doubtful that will happen today. But I did remember that girl from high school's name, and I'm all for small victories.