If no one would come in after half an hour, I just might go insane.

I missed hearing the faint ring of the bell. The muffled whoosh of warm air from the heating system tried to creep in my ears, but other than that, silence engulfed the walls of the store.

I heaved a sigh, fixing the name tag pinned on the left side of my collared shirt uniform, its dark yellow color emphasizing my natural tanned skin.

I had never worn an employee uniform in my nineteen years of existence. Mom didn't want me to work while studying. She said she could just send me money whenever I needed it, but I wanted to be independent this time.

When I finally left her in Maui to move to the other side of the world for college, I asked my Aunt Claire to help me find a job. Hence, I got the privilege to stand in front of the cash register all day in a not-so-busy convenience store.

I almost jumped on my post when the bell rang from the door, signalling me that someone just entered the store.

Lifting my head to greet the customer, I caught sight of his dirty blonde locks hiding from his black cap. I could only see his back from where I stood, but I could tell from his fitted black shirt that he was one of those guys who spent a lot of time in the gym.

I watched the guy wander around the aisles, as if trying to search for something he couldn't find. He had this grimace on his face, which clearly suggested frustration, if not anger.

When he suddenly looked my way, I gulped, grains of sand slipping down my throat.

His eyes locked on mine as he made his way towards the counter. I had little to no time to hide from the angry customer, so instead of letting the cold sweat get the better of me, I decided to stay put and prayed I wouldn't stutter.

"H-Hi... how can I... help you?" Of course, I failed.

I craned my neck to meet his eyes, its icy hue sending a shiver up my spine. He took off the cap over his head and ran a hand through his messy locks.

I willed myself to look away, but I couldn't. My eyes kept on going back to his blue orbs. They were beautiful. He was beautiful.

"Don't you have an electric razor here?" His frustrated voice brought me back to my senses as I noticed the growing stubble running through his jawline. I understood his desperation to shave it off, but I must say, he still looked effortlessly good with it. "Hey!"

I blinked. "S-Sorry. I'll just..." Dropping my gaze from him, I fidgeted on the screen in front of me to check for the inventory. Unfortunately, the last one was sold few days ago. "We only have the disposable ones left at the moment."

His brows creased in the middle. "What? Is Clyde here?" His question caught me off guard. How did he know the name of the shop's owner?

"Clyde is..." I hesitated, contemplating on whether I should answer him. "... he's not here right now."

"Where is he?" he answered in a rather pissed tone, his brows still furrowed.

"I'm... not sure if I should tell customers about the owner's whereabouts. I'm sorry..." I looked down, not wanting to speak another word to him.

"Fuck! I'll just get two packs of L&M then," he finished, fishing out his phone from his pocket.

I ignored his curse, took a pack of cigarette from behind me and scanned it. I didn't really think this guy was a smoker and alcoholic. But as old folks would say, looks could be deceiving. "That would be... 71 dollars."

I watched him tap his phone over the card machine and mumbled, "Thank you."

He just lifted his chin and slipped the packs of cigar in his jeans pocket. I sighed, relieved that he was finally gone. It felt like a truckload of bricks was lifted from my shoulders after dealing with that guy.

I surprisingly got through the day without having to deal with another rude customer who knew the shop's owner.

After waiting for my workmate, Fiona to take over the next shift, I finally stepped out of the shop and headed back home.

I thought of stopping by at a flower shop to give some to my aunt since it was Mother's Day today. It had only been three weeks since I got here, but without her, I would not have survived living here by myself.

Aunt Claire had been nothing but nice to me, and not to mention, she was the one who helped me convince mom to come here. "Don't worry, Cheryl. I'll take good care of Jam. I'll make sure you won't regret letting her study here," her exact words to mom over the phone the first time I set foot in Fremantle. This was the only thing I could give her. I knew she had been missing her only son, who was now living in another state with his own family.

"Chrysanthemums are perfect gifts to mums," the lady from the flower shop suggested, so that was what I bought. I thought of getting one for Grandma Olive from next door as well, who reminded me of my grandmother. Aunt Claire was close to her and her husband, Grandpa Allan. Sometimes, we would go to their house to have dinner together and keep them company.

When I finally reached home, I immediately saw Aunt Claire watering the plants on the front lawn. I strolled behind her, poking her back. She almost dropped the garden hose when she turned around and saw me.

"Oh dear! Jam, why did you scare me like that?" She held her chest with her hand as I suppressed a laugh.

"Sorry, Aunt Claire. Happy Mother's Day!" I handed her the bouquet of yellow chrysanthemums.

"Aww! Thank you, dear. This is so pretty." She sniffed the flowers before wrapping me tight in her arms as I rested my chin on her shoulder.

I loved hugging Aunt Claire because it almost felt like hugging mom. They both had the same body shape, not too slim and not too plump. Mom was a few years younger than Aunt Claire, but somehow, they looked like twins with their dark shoulder-length hair and oval face.

"It's nothing, Aunt Claire. I owe you a lot."

"Alec hasn't greeted me yet. He hasn't called for a month already," her voice sounded upset after mentioning her son's name.

I tapped her back lightly, trying to comfort her. "Maybe he'll call later, auntie."

"I hope so, dear. Who are you giving that other one for?" she asked, pulling away from me and pointing at the other bouquet in my hand.

"It's for Gran Oli. Be right back." I turned around, but she stopped me by the arm.

"You should give that later. She invited us over for dinner. Said she cooked something special," Aunt Claire ended with a wink.

"All right, auntie. I'll just go rest a bit," I said, jogging my way inside the house.

After taking a shower, I jumped on my bed and dialed mom's number. She picked up after a few rings and she bombarded me with questions at the first minute. As an only child, I definitely understood her worry. "Ma, I'm all right here," I tried to convince her.

"College is different there, Jam. Remember to stay away from sororities. If possible, don't mingle with frat boys," she reminded again. I could honestly imagine her speaking in front of me with worry painted all over her face.

"Ma, I don't think that's a problem. You know me well. I only hang out with my cousins back there, remember?"

Coming to Fremantle had been in my list for a while now. Ever since mom told me about my dad's family roots, I was determined to find him.

I grew up seeing his face only from the photos of mom when she gave birth to me at a hospital in Maui. I used to resent him for leaving me and mom alone. "He was in the Army," mom told me.

Mom hated him for what he did. Whenever I tried to ask or even mention his name, she would divert the conversation and pretend she didn't hear it. "He never came back for us, so what's the point of looking for him?"

As I grew older, I came to realize that maybe he had reasons for leaving. Even if he didn't, I still wanted to meet him or just see him for a bit. That would put my heart at ease.

"You can always come back here, anak (child)," mom spoke, bringing me back to my reverie. I could hear the sadness in her voice, but I tried not to quiver because I just might really go back any minute. I wanted to experience being independent for once, but I didn't think it was this hard living away from home. Homesickness was hitting me really hard.

"I just got here a few weeks ago, ma. I'll be okay," I tried to convince myself this time. I'll be okay.

"All right then. I love you, sweetie."

"Love you too, ma. Happy mother's day to you and lola (grandma)." I hung up, before she could even notice the melancholy building up inside me.

I reached for the small remote on my bedside table and pressed the play button. The sound of a guitar started to fill my room, following the melodic voice of Chris Martin. I buried myself with the music until I dozed off in bed.

*** 

A soft knock on the door disconnected me from my dream.

I slowly opened my eyes and groaned, rolling to the other side when I heard another knock.

"Jam... dear, are you up?" Aunt Claire murmured from behind the door. "It's ten past seven in the evening. Olive and Allan are waiting for us next door," she reminded. My brain instantly activated. I almost forgot about that.

"I'll be down in a minute." I fretted, shuffling on my feet and fixing my long hair up in a usual ponytail.

After changing into a fresh shirt and grabbing the bouquet from the dressing table, I descended the stairs and saw Aunt Claire in a casual dress. I peered at her. "Am I underdressed or are you overdressed?"

She studied me for a second before answering, "You are underdressed, dear. Are you just going to wear a shirt and shorts?"

I nodded. "Since when did we dress up going to dinner at their house?"

"Today is the day, my dear. Just go change into pants at least," she advised, pushing me back upstairs.

Groaning, I headed back to my room and slipped into my jeans. I knew it was Mother's Day, but I still didn't get the point of dressing up just to have dinner next door.

When we reached the door of our neighbor, Aunt Claire pressed the bell. Usually, the old man, Grandpa Allan, would greet us, but this time, when the door cracked open, a familiar guy attended to us with a thin smile. He wore the same Rolling Stones shirt from earlier, only this time, he wasn't wearing a frown on his face.

"Hello, come in!" His voice came off sweet as honey, contrary to the irritated tone that I could still remember in my head.

My eyes fell to his left cheek, a subtle dimple appearing and luring me in. I didn't think a dimple could change my mind about him, but it was definitely creeping its way to my heart.

When his blue orbs met my gaze, I immediately looked down, hearing him chuckle. Damn, even his laugh sounded riveting. He didn't seem to remember me though, which was a good thing.

"You must be their grandson?" Aunt Claire spoke, breaking the silence among us.

"Yes, I am. And you must be our neighbors," he chirped, extending his hand at Aunt Claire for her to shake it, then glancing back at me. I wondered if he would recognize me, not that it mattered though.

"Asher, are they here?" Grandma Olive's voice caught our attention. An old woman with gray bobcat hair appeared from behind him.

"Happy Mother's Day, Gran Oli!" I greeted, moving closer to her and bringing the back of her hand on my forehead. She loved it everytime I did that. It was something ingrained in me as a child, growing up with a Filipino mom and grandma. When I handed her the chrysanthemum, her face lit up in surprise.

"Thank you so much, dear. That's so sweet of you." She planted a kiss on my cheek, not letting go of my other hand. "Come on in."

I let Grandma Olive lead the way in, trying to avoid any awkward glances towards her grandson, who was trailing us.

When we reached the dining area, I took the seat next to my aunt as Grandma Olive showed us the dishes she prepared on the table.

My eyes landed on the creamy chicken on the side, which was her specialty. I could almost taste it in my mouth already. My salivating stopped when I heard a chortle behind me. I didn't turn to look. "I see we're eyeing the same dish," he stated, making me glance at him. He wiggled his brows in response, a smile still stamped on his face. This guy was definitely the opposite of the one I just met at the store. Maybe that was his evil twin brother.

Soon after, we started digging in. I tried most of the dishes, but my stomach just craved for the creamy chicken.

"God! I haven't eaten this in years," Asher blurted out, catching our attention. Looking at him, he resembled a kid receiving presents during Christmas. How adorable!

Shaking my head, I focused my eyes on the chicken again.

Grandma Olive stifled a laugh. "I'm glad you thought of visiting us here, Ash. I'd gladly cook for you everyday."

"Ah! I think I should consider living here with you now, nan," the guy said, smiling and exposing his dimple once again. I forced myself to look away to keep my heart still.

"Maybe you should, Ash. We missed having a kid around here," Grandpa Allan replied.

"Well, Jam here always comes and keeps us company once in a while," Grandma Olive spoke, looking at me. I smiled back at her, ignoring the stare of their grandson across me.

The dinner ended later than expected. Aunt Claire and Grandma Olive chatted all throughout the night. I just listened to them and responded with either a smile or a laugh. Once in a while, I would notice Asher glance my way. From my experiences, a guy only looked at me if something was wrong with my face or if he needed something from me. In this case, I couldn't really tell. I quickly brought out my hanky to wipe my mouth, just in case.

When the elders finally drained themselves, Aunt Claire stood up and bid goodbye. I did the same. Aunt Claire already stepped out of the house first. Before I could follow her out, someone stopped me by the arm, stunning me.

I spun around to see Asher smiling at me. "Thank you for giving the flowers to nana. I honestly didn't give her anything. I forgot it's Mother's Day today."

I paused, not at the fact that he forgot Mother's Day, but because his warm hand tingled my skin. "It's... nothing. Thank you... for the dinner again," I faltered, glancing at his grip.

When he noticed this, he finally released my hand. "Oh, sorry. So, you're Jam, right? The girl at the store?" he asked, trying to confirm it I guess. So he recognized me.

"It's... Jannah. Only my family calls me Jam."

Asher's lips twitched on the side, nodding. "Cool. Nice meeting you, Jam." The rude customer turned out to be the guy next door, quite literally and I didn't know if I could handle that.

***