He recalls the memory of my cousin, Roxanne

“Thank you for being our hostess,” Uncle Aaron says, reclining in his seat. While he is a bulky man, his weight is not from being obese, but having a muscular structure of his body. He used to be a fighter, but after an injury, he was **** to retire. And with age and inactivity, the fat is slowly overtaking his brawn. “May I ask your name?”

“It’s Charlene,” I tell him.

“Similar to Charles. Do people confuse you two sometimes?” Uncle Aaron laughs and asks.

I tell him, “Sometimes, but I don’t work as much, so very little chance for any confusion.”

He smiles, but I cannot tell from what. He grabs a bottle from the ice bucket and when he tries to open it, I stop him, saying, “Let me, Sir.”

“Right. That’s your job,” he says. He directs his attention to his friend as I hand the opened beer bottle to Uncle Aaron. “Sing a song, pare.”

The man nods and gets the remote and puts in a song number, seemingly from memory. A Filipino ballad, the composition containing only a folk guitar and some simple percussions, starts to play and the tall man steps closer to the screen with his back facing me and Uncle Aaron. When I hand the beer bottle to him, he takes this chance to close the distance between our thighs. He naturally wraps an arm around my smaller frame, his hand resting at my hip.

His lips are near my ear, almost tickling me as he whispers into it. “You remind me of Roxanne, Charlene,” he says, the hand on my hip somehow moving to the top of my thigh.

“I’ve heard about her. She’s the one who passed?” I ask, acting like I don’t know who he is talking about on a personal level.

He nods, reclines in his seat, relaxing as the song of his friend ends. The hand on my thigh lifts as the arm it is attached to rises to rest on the back of the chair. Uncle Aaron’s friend looks back and my uncle gestures to him to continue singing his ballads.

“Roxanne had this youthful fire to her. She was everything a parent would want in a daughter. Outgoing, friendly, and kind to others. She was also an excellent singer and dancer; the life of the party she was. She could’ve been a pop star if she wanted to,” Uncle Aaron explains, clearly reminiscing on old times. “Roxanne was a hard worker. She had been working to save up for a car. She wanted to travel the country, she said. Since I considered her my niece, I offered to buy full price the car she was dreaming of, but Roxanne, she was very persuasive. Her father really drilled into her to never take any handouts. She was determined to pay for the car with the money she earned from her various jobs.” I knew that Roxanne had worked multiple jobs during the week, but the karaoke studio was her primary. In fact, she let me on a little secret. There was a point where this became her only job, as the other ones did not give her good hours or the pay was terrible compared to what she got here. And the customers… her clients for that matter, tipped her very well for services that weren’t written on any menu. “In no time, she was able to buy her car. It was sad to see her leave, but it was for the best. This was her dream. We just didn’t know her dream would be cut short by that drunk driver.”

I sense in Uncle Aaron an unresolved anger. Given that his friend’s song was about to end, I feel that it be best that he calm himself down.