"Umuulan? Shet na yan! Kung kelan ako mag-go-grocery? Lord naman, maputik pag nag-trike!"
Danielle stood at the door, canvas tote slung over her shoulder, Leo trailing behind her in mismatched socks holding an empty egg tray.
"Mama, wala na rin tayong ketchup. Promise last na 'yung kanin na may ketchup kaninang umaga," Leo said solemnly, as if reporting national news.
She peeked out.
Sheets of rain. Torrential. Biblical.
"Patay. Hindi na 'to ulan—apocalypse na 'to," Danielle muttered, pressing a hand to her forehead.
Then she saw it.
The umbrella.
It wasn't there before—or maybe it was, but she never noticed it. Hanging casually by the doorknob like it was just some random item.
She grabbed it.
And froze.
FORD.
Clean. White. Stamped across the fabric.
Her stomach dropped.
Nafeel ko lang, may nakalimutan ako. Kelan ko nakuha to?
She slowly twisted the knob and opened the door.
"Mama! Lalabas ka?" Leo squeaked.
"Sandali lang."
Barefoot, umbrella still closed in her hand, she stepped into the downpour under the small porch roof. The rain was deafening.
Then she saw it.
There. Parked in her driveway like a goddamn plot twist.
A brand-new, all shiny Shadow Black Ford Bronco Sasquatch.
She blinked. Once. Twice.
Then stared down at the umbrella again. Still real. Still FORD.
Her free hand instinctively smacked her forehead.
"Damn… yung laway ko, sissssy."
The umbrella dangled limply from her fingers. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, part disbelief, part… awe.
How did I even forget about this?
Behind her, Leo called out again.
"Mummy, will it rain again tomorrow? Can I splash in the muddy puddles?" Tunog Peppa Pig na yung anak ko, hindi naman nanonood nun.🐷💦
She didn't answer. Couldn't. She was too busy staring at the proof of how much her life had shifted—parked right in front of her house, gleaming despite the rain.
A truck like that didn't just symbolize luxury.
It screamed: You are no longer who you thought you were.
"Seatbelt, please," Danielle said as she leaned over to help Leo buckle up. "Hang on… you're sliding all over the place."
She paused, gave him a look, then blurted, "Wait. We don't even have a car seat yet."
"I told you, Mummy," Leo said with dramatic flair, "I'm practically six. I'm big now."
She gave him a deadpan stare. "Practically six" my ass.
"You're still legally five, anak. And this car is practically a monster truck."
He giggled, but she made a mental note: First stop at S&R—grab a proper booster seat.
She didn't want to admit how much it rattled her to drive something this big. The Bronco purred with power, its engine quietly rumbling under her hands. She could still barely believe it had her name on the papers.
They eased out of Antipolo, heading down Sumulong Highway. Marikina wasn't far—it was why she chose it. Familiar roads, light enough traffic, wide enough lanes.
The weather had cleared up just enough, a drizzle dancing over the windshield.
She glanced at Leo, who was peering out the window with the kind of wide-eyed wonder only kids had.
Why do I deserve this?
Because she could finally say "yes" to small things without panicking about tomorrow's bills.
Because she could breathe, even if it was just a little bit.
Because she could finally buy her son a car seat from the membership store she used to pass by but never enter—thinking it was for people whose lives didn't involve skipping meals just to stretch the budget.
As they neared the Marikina exit, she gripped the wheel tighter, this time with something closer to confidence.
I'm still scared. But I'm not stuck.
As Danielle parked the Bronco in the S&R Marikina lot—a little crooked, but within the lines—she let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.
Hindi na ako nag-trayk. Hindi na ako nagpapa-dyahe sa jeep, hindi na ako naglalakad sa init o ulan, nakatapak ng putik papuntang grocery, occasionally of course. Ano teh? D na aapak sa lupa?
She glanced at Leo, who was humming the Bluey theme in the back seat. Lord, bakit gan'to yung feeling?
Danielle eyed the towering Bronco as she swung the door open. Getting out required a small hop — a reminder that this beast wasn't exactly built for petite frames like hers. "Whoever thought this was a good idea," she muttered, landing on the pavement with a soft thud, "definitely needs to be stoned."
Leo bounced out behind her, already energized by the new adventure. They locked the Bronco with a beep that echoed like a drumroll.
The automatic doors of S&R slid open, revealing the gleaming aisles that used to be a distant dream. Danielle reached into her bag and pulled out the shiny new membership card — her ticket to a world she'd longed for but never dared enter. Holding it felt like clutching a golden ticket, one that promised not just groceries, but a life rewritten.
Membership na grocery ko. Huy. May card na ako. No shade sa Puregold pero girl, damn the upgrade. Pero may mga local items na love na love ko sa PureGold. Hehe pinoy kutkutins, yessss! Bibili ako next time, my love for snacks and chips and seeds of all kinds. Kala mo may lamay!
It hit her right in the chest.
From scanning yellow tags and haggling with tindera, to pushing a massive cart into a warehouse that smelled like frozen meats and imported dreams.
Who is she? Whooooooo?!
Danielle laughed to herself, pushing the cart with one hand while trying to wrangle Leo with the other. They made a beeline to the Kids section—car seats lined up like little thrones.
"Mummy, this one's got cupholders!"
"Ay, wag masyado mahal ha—---pero okay fine, subukan natin."
She crouched down, checking labels. The prices made her wince, but then again—hindi ko na iniisip kung kakayanin ko.
She used to cry over fare. Now she could buy safety.
Now she was safety.
They turned into the hygiene aisle, the bright white light catching every plastic bottle like it was on a showroom floor. Danielle slowed her cart in front of the bath soaps.
Leo was busy counting dinosaur stickers on a shampoo bottle.
She picked up a large bottle of Aveeno Baby, flipped it over, and stared at the price.
₱1,239.00.
Shit. Ang mahal.
She looked to the left, saw the usual bottle she used to buy—₱489.00, for half the size, barely lasted a month.
Yung dati kong binibili... 'di naman masama. Walang amoy, safe naman sa balat ni Leo... pero ito?
She ran her thumb down the Aveeno label.
Ito yung hindi ko kayang bilhin noon.
Her fingers gripped the bottle tightly, then she placed it in the cart.
No second guessing. No calculator. No guilt.
Because Leo deserves more. Because I deserve more. Because we made it here, kahit paunti-unti.
She stood there for a beat, the scent of the soaps and lotions mixing in the air. She wasn't crying, but her throat tightened.
As Danielle walked down the aisles of the grocery store, she couldn't help but notice how everything had changed. The once week-to-week shopping trips were a thing of the past. Now, she could afford to buy the larger packages—hand soaps, their usual Safeguard bar soaps, and even the liquid ones Leo loved. The packages were bigger, but it felt like a subtle luxury.
She grabbed the larger bag of rice, 2 of a kind, without a second thought, and when she passed the section for snacks, her eyes immediately landed on the colorful boxes of Leo's favorite treats. No longer would they have to settle for the smaller packs. She could buy the bulk size now. Her daughter's little face lit up at the sight of the Kinetic Sand kit, the one she used to only dream about, and without hesitation, Danielle tossed it into the cart.
She stopped in front of the Lego aisle, running a hand over the colorful sets that used to feel like an indulgence. She never thought she'd be able to get them in full, but now, the thought of grabbing an extra set was just part of the routine. A slight smile tugged at her lips as Leo excitedly picked up a new set.
For the first time in forever, she didn't have to hesitate, didn't have to add up numbers in her head before adding something to the cart.
"We're really doing this," she whispered to herself, as if waking from a dream. The satisfaction of being able to afford things for Leo without worrying about the cost was one thing, but the fact that they no longer had to go on weekly runs? That felt like a whole new level of stability.
"Mummy, are we rich now?" Leo whispered, poking the Aveeno bottle.
"No, baby," she chuckled, ruffling his hair. "We're just not too poor anymore."
And that was more than enough.
Leo was now busy dragging her toward the snack aisle, chanting something about dinosaur-shaped gummies.
Her company phone buzzed — a dull, insistent vibration against her thigh. Almost silent, but still sharp enough to slice through the grocery store hum.
She reached into her sling bag, fingers brushing the iPhone's cold edges. Horizon line. Priority.
Axel.
She answered without thinking. Reflex, like breathing.
"Axel?"
His voice came through clear despite the warehouse noise.
"Have you seen the cards?"
She blinked. Cards? Her brain scrambled for context.
"What cards?" she asked, glancing at Leo now climbing on the cart like it was a jungle gym.
There was a pause on the line. Long enough to make her straighten a little.
"The cards inside the glove box."
Shit. Glove box? Her eyes widened. Did I even open the glove box?
"I haven't checked. Why? Is it something I should've seen?"
He chuckled, low and almost smug. "You'll want to."
Before she could say more, the call ended.
She stood frozen beside a mountain of canned goods, blinking at her reflection in the shiny shelves.
Leo pulled at her shirt.
"Mummy, can we get this?" he held up a tub of chocolate-covered almonds bigger than his head.
"Yeah," she murmured, still holding the phone. "We can."
But her thoughts were already racing. What cards? Bank cards? IDs? A note?
She'd check as soon as they got back to the car.
Danielle carefully eyed the last few items on their shopping list, Leo holding onto a box of Lego blocks that nearly outweighed him. She looked over at the cart, stacked high with her biggest purchase yet—an industrial-sized pack of toilet paper and an absurdly large box of cat food that had somehow found its way in there. She stood for a moment, taking it all in. This wasn't just grocery shopping. This was the upgrade.
"I think that's it, Mommy," Leo said, his face beaming with the innocence of a child who still thought all this was some grand adventure.
She smiled, nodding. "I think we're done. Now, time to take it home in our new ride."
Leo's eyes lit up as they wheeled the cart toward the checkout counter. "The truck!" he cheered, completely forgetting the actual grocery bags in favor of his excitement over the car.
It was impossible for Danielle to ignore the feeling of surrealness as she swiped her card for the purchase. It was different, this feeling. She wasn't just checking off grocery items. She was checking off something bigger than she'd ever imagined for herself.
As they headed outside, the rain had stopped, and the world seemed to pause just for a moment. Danielle placed the heavy bags into the trunk of the Bronco, her fingers brushing against the metallic surface. She couldn't believe it. Her hand hovered over the handle of the car door. It was hers. And yet, it didn't feel quite real.
Then, she paused. Her hand hovered over the box of cat food, and a small frown tugged at her lips. She had almost forgotten. The familiar pang of loss crept up on her—the cat that used to chase after Leo's toys, the one they lost too soon. She shook her head, quickly removing the box from the cart and setting it aside.
"You alright, Mommy?" Leo asked, noticing her hesitation.
She smiled softly, her voice light as she ruffled his hair. "Yeah, just... we don't need this anymore."
With a quick motion, she tossed it aside, knowing she didn't have the heart to replace the kitten they once had. But the world kept moving, and so did she. The cat food wasn't needed anymore, and neither was the space in their life that had once been occupied by that fluffy friend.
"You sure you can drive it!" Leo said innocently, his face now pressed against the window as he stared at the sheer size of the Bronco.
She laughed, her fingers tight on the steering wheel. "Of course I can," she said, though her voice held a bit of uncertainty. The car seemed massive beneath her tiny frame, and she was still figuring out all its quirks. But damn it, she would own it.
Before she could even get in, she reached into the backseat, where she had already set up the new car seat for Leo. She carefully strapped her in, making sure the seat was secure before sliding into the driver's seat herself. She double-checked everything—just a mom thing, right? She couldn't help but smile at the thought of how this moment was so different from the daily routine of squeezing into a crowded jeepney or hauling shopping bags on foot.
"Let's go home, kiddo" Danielle said, a grin spreading across her face as she reversed out of the parking spot.
As she drove away from the store, her heart raced in a mix of pride and disbelief. The road ahead felt different—like it was hers for the taking.
Leo laughed in the backseat, making car noises. "Vroom, vroom!"
She couldn't help but smile as the car purred beneath her, the weight of her new reality settling in with every mile.
This wasn't just a new car. This was the new chapter.
And damn, it was only just beginning.