It was a busy afternoon at the estate, with our attendants moving about the premises in preparation for the coming feast. Spectating from the balcony of the house, I can see them attend to a variety of tasks - with a majority of the women preparing the meats and other ingredients for the meals, while the men are busy unloading crates of wines and fruits and carrying them to towards the pantry at the back of the house.

Unexpectedly, I felt a light tug at my skirt, followed by a yawn that sounded all too familiar for me not to recognize.

"Mama." the boy called out. "Are my friends here yet?"

I turned to gaze at my little boy's unkempt hair as he went towards the railing of the balcony to spectate the view. "You're up early, my dear." I answered as I tidied Miguel's hair with my fingers. "I'm afraid your friends are still having their siesta at this time of the day."

"Aww." my son pouted in disappointment. "Can't you ask them to get here a little earlier, mama? I'm getting bored."

"Now, what did I tell you about that attitude of yours?" I gently scolded him. "You won't make a lot of friends if you're like that, Miguel."

"But I'm bored, mama! If only papa would take me to the shooting range..." Miguel complained.

"Now's not the time for that, mijo. Today's your birthday, remember?" I said with a smile. "You're a big boy now, and big boys don't act like that, yes?"

"But mamaaaaa..." Miguel bawled.

At this point, my gaze started to sharpen. "Miguel!" I warned him. But as I was about to reprimand my little boy, my attention was caught by something familiar approaching from afar. From a distance, I can see a carriage moving towards the gate of the estate. The car itself was not known to me, but the cochero wearing a salakot...he looked familiar.

"Isn't that Penitente's cochero? What is he doing here this early in the afternoon?" I muttered to myself.

"Mama...who is that?" Miguel asked curiously, pointing at the direction of the carruaje.

"He's...a friend." I lied as I patted my boy's head. "Now, be a good boy and go to your room, mijo. Mama just needs to talk with her visitor." I ordered as I sent him away. Miguel, though reluctant, complied with my orders and went inside - dragging his feet along the way. As soon as I heard the door of his room close, I immediately went down the stairs in order to greet the guest.

As I made my way outside, the carriage went into a halt, it's car door facing the entrance of the house. The cochero then got off the carriage and opened the car doors for its passengers. What happened next subverted my expectations.

"Good afternoon, Doña Pelaez." Isagani greeted with a smile as he got off the carriage, with Don Basilio closely behind him. "I hope you don't mind us coming here this early unannounced. We just thought we'd drop by to pay you a visit. Is Don Timoteo home, by any chance?"

"I'm afraid Don Timoteo is off attending to some important matters at the moment. Have the two of you gentlemen had your lunch? Would you like me to call for our attendants to prepare you one?" I offered.

"That won't be necessary, but thank you, Doña Pelaez." Don Basilio answered, waving his hand apologetically to chorus with his refusal. "Perhaps my friend Isagani would like a meal."

"Uhh, no. Thank you. I have had a hearty meal earlier in the morning. Perhaps you could offer the meal to our cochero Peralta instead. Perhaps he would like to have some lunch before we depart." Isagani presented.

"Yes, please. I'd very much appreciate a meal, señora." the cochero Peralta exclaimed.

"Very well. I'll have one of my atten-"

"Mama!" shouted a boy's voice from behind me as quickly paced thuds sounded from the wooden stairs.

"Miguel!" shouted a short, middle-aged Filipino woman as she emerged from the stairs, running frantically as she chased my son.

"Miguel..." I whispered to myself as I turned around to face him, urging him to run towards me as he descended the stairs.

"My apologies, señora." said the short Filipina woman. "Miguel...he's-"

"It's all right, Aling Maria." I assured her. "I'll take it from here. Please attend to our guest, Señor Peralta. I assume the adobo is ready?"

"Yes, señora. Right away." Maria answered as he turned his attention to the rustic cochero. "Right this way, señor." she exclaimed as she led him towards the workers' mess hall.

"Is this your son?" Isagani asked as he took a gander. "My, what a handsome boy you have. He really took after you, didn't he?"

"Thank you. This little man's a stubborn one. A real piece of work." I smiled apologetically as Miguel held me close by the skirt.

"No, I'm not!" Miguel protested.

"Well..." Isagani replied, his brows raised. "...point taken."

At this point, Isagani knelt towards Miguel, smiling as he's trying to take out something from his coat pocket.

"Hey, little one. How are you?" Isagani asked in English.

Understandably, my boy was cagey at first, hiding behind my skirt. It took Miguel a moment to muster up his courage. "I...I'm fine, mister." he answered in kind in English.

"Not too bad." Isagani commented, gazing back at me with a satisfied expression - kneeling as he drew closer to my son. "What's your name, boy?" he asked in Tagalog.

"Mama, who is this man?" Miguel asked as he looked at me, his eyes filled with wonder.

"It's okay, anak (child). That's your Tito (Uncle) Isagani. Don't be shy." I urged him.

Though hesitant, my son answered Isagani's question.

"M...my name is Mi...Miguel...Pelaez." he answered sheepishly.

"He's really anxious around strangers." I explained.

"That's fine." Isagani replied as he smiled at me. He then turned his attention to Miguel.

"Oh, by the way, Miguel. I brought you something." Isagani exclaimed as he reached for something inside his coat. "I heard you like these a lot, so I had this made just for you. Well...your Tito Isagani can't really give you the real thing, so...I had these made instead. I really hope you like it. Happy birthday, Miguel."

At this, Isagani pulled out a wooden model of a revolver. He then flicked the wooden gun to the left to expose the cylinder - demonstrating to Miguel that the toy was made to resemble the inner workings of the mechanisms of the real gun as well.

Miguel's eyes shone with excitement upon seeing Isagani's gift. "Wow! Awesome!" he shouted with joy as he snatched the gun from Isagani's hand.

"Hep, hep! Aren't we getting ahead of ourselves?" I reprimanded him as I snatched the toy away from his hand. "Aren't we forgetting something, Miguel? What do we say when we receive gifts from others, hmm?"

Like a penitent man in a church, Miguel lowered his head. "...Thank you po, tito." he said in a low voice.

"That's more like it." I commended him.

At this, I slowly handed the toy back to my son. However, as soon as the gun's handle touched my boy's hand, the little rascal immediately snatched the wooden gun and immediately ran up the stairs.

"Hey! Miguel! Don't run up the stairs! You'll trip and fall! Ugh, you little...!" I shouted at the top of my lungs in a vain attempt to stop him.

For a short moment, Isagani was silent.

"...Wow..." Isagani remarked, his eyes wide open in shock. "I...honestly did not expect that from you."

"Please excuse me, gentlemen. It's really difficult to be a mother sometimes." I answered in a very apologetic tone.

"It sure seems like it." Isagani remarked as he broke into a smile. "Good Lord! With a mother like you, my first thought would be to run, too."

"Isagani!" I replied playfully.

"Where is he going, anyway?" Isagani asked.

"To his room. He's a shy boy. Although he isn't too keen on showing it, Miguel really liked your gift. It's...really rare for other people to elicit that kind of response from him when it comes to gifts." I answered. "Thank you, Isagani. I...really appreciate what you did for my son."

Don Basilio, whose expression seem to display a mix of impatience and boredom, immediately pulled out his pocket watch to check the time.

"Uhhh...Don Timoteo might take a while for him to get back to the house. He's a very busy man. Would you like to wait for him at the sala (living room), or is there anything else I can do for you today, gentlemen?"

"No, I suppose that's all for now, Doña Pelaez. Thank you. Perhaps we'll talk with Don Timoteo at another time." Don Basilio replied. "Please give Don Timoteo our warmest regards."

"I will tell him of your visit, Don Basilio." I replied. "Uhh...should I call for your cochero now?"

"Yes, please." Don Basilio affirmed. "I suppose he would have eaten his fill by now."

"I see." I replied. "Maria!"

Maria then rushed in to answer my call.

"Yes, señora?" she asked.

"Could you call the cochero for me? Our guests are to depart." I ordered.

"Certainly, señora." she replied curtly as she immediately departed for the workers' mess hall.

I then turned my attention to my guests. "Señores, do you want to leave a message for Don Timoteo before you depart?"

"Nothing, señora. I suppose we'll take it up to him at the celebration." Isagani answered. "Although I have to ask: where's...Don Juanito? I haven't seen him around for a while. Is he not home?"

"Uhh...my husband went with my father-in-law's trip, I'm afraid." I lied. "Do you want to leave a message?"

"Uhh...no." he abruptly replied as he looked around the premises. "I'm just curious. But thank you anyway."

"You called for me, señor?" the cochero called out as he emerged from the premises of the mess hall, with Maria closely accompanying him.

"Yes. I assume you had eaten well?" said Don Basilio in a rather strangely accented tone.

"Si. Muchas gracias to our very generous host, Doña Pelaez. The adobo was a fine meal and Aling Maria was a quite the cook." the cochero commended. "Please excuse me, I have to tend to the horses."

"Well, we will be off, then." Isagani exclaimed. "Thank you once again for receiving us. I look forward to meeting with you again at the celebration."

"Likewise." I answered with a smile. "A safe journey to you, gentlemen."