Emily was in her element, in a wide, expansive kitchen with four oversized commercial ovens. It was the Sunday before Martin Luther King, Jr., Day, and she was directing her fellow freshman swimmers as they baked, wrapped, and boxed up batch after batch of cookies. The freshmen were going to spend their Day of Service at the Lytton Gardens Senior Center, and Emily had volunteered to take care of the baked goods. She had made arrangements to use the kitchen in the Pi Psi house.

Paige was beaming with pride at her girlfriend. Emily had a presence about her that dripped authority. Most of their teammates had been captains of their high school swim teams, and they were used to being the ones in charge, but Emily stood out among them as a leader of leaders. It only helped, for this project, that she was so at home in the kitchen.

Emily kept the kitchen hopping, but the mood was light. The team was really looking forward to spending the day with the assisted-living residents, and they all enjoyed each other's company. As much as they were doing it for the residents, it was a great bonding and team-building exercise.

"You were amazing today," Paige told Emily as she held her in bed that night.

"I know my way around a kitchen!"

"But it wasn't just that. You had everybody organized and working together, like a well-oiled machine."

"Credit Wayne Fields, I guess! Mom taught me all about baking, and Dad taught me all about leading a team."

"Do you think you'd like to be captain of the swim team?"

"Why?" Emily asked playfully, turning toward Paige, "Am I going to have to fight you for it?"

"There would be no competition! You're a born leader!"

"And so are you! You're a motivator. I can organize people, but you get them pumped up to compete."

"Co-captains!" Paige suggested.

"That sounds right!"

Paige thought back to baking Christmas cookies for their visit to the Shady Days home in Rosewood. She hoped that this visit wouldn't end up like that one, with Emily roping her into singing for the residents.

On Monday, they carpooled over to the facility, wearing shirts with Dr. King's image on the front and "Stanford Swimming/Day of Service" on the back. After they checked in at the front desk, the freshmen formed an assembly line, hauling boxes from the Vicki's trunk and back seat to a room off the main kitchen that would serve as their staging area. They went around in groups of two to as many residents as had indicated that they wanted visitors. Emily pointed to a name on the list and grabbed Paige by the arm. "Let's visit this one!"

They knocked on the door and were greeted by an elderly woman propped up in a chair watching game shows. "Magandang umaga Po!" Emily said to her, and the woman's face brightened. Emily reached out and took the resident's hand, which she raised to her own forehead. Mrs. Tamayo and Emily exchanged a few sentences in a language that Paige couldn't quite determine, sprinkling in the occasional English word in as well. Emily pointed to her and said some words ending in "Paige," to which the resident replied, "Oh, maganda!" and reached out for a hug. Paige greeted her, and the conversation switched to English after that.

The three ladies talked for a good half hour, with the TV providing background noise. Mrs. Tamayo told of growing up in the Philippines, being raised by her aunt from the time that she was 8, when her parents moved to the US. It had been another five years before she was able to join them in California. Emily told Mrs. Tamayo about her Filipino grandmother, sharing some of the stories that her grandmother had told her about growing up in the Philippines before she married a GI and got an opportunity to see the world.

Mrs. Tamayo asked Paige whether or not she had ever been to the Philippines. Paige had never been out of the country. She told her that she hadn't been to the Philippines, but that it sounded like a place that she would like to visit. "Well, I'm sure that Emily will take you there, someday," she said, and then she winked at Emily and added, "Pulut-gata!" Emily gave her a playful swipe across the shoulder and smiled in embarrassment.

As they were about to leave, Mrs. Tamayo gathered them close and said that she wanted to say a blessing over them. She spoke more words that Paige couldn't understand but which brought tears to Emily's eyes. "Salamat Po," Emily said, as she hugged her good-by and gave her a kiss to the cheek.

When they got into the hall, Paige gave Emily a moment to collect herself before she asked, "Pulut gata?" trying her best to remember the syllables.

"It's sort of like 'honeymoon.'" Emily smiled nervously.

Paige was shocked. "You told her that we were together?"

"She asked me whether or not you were my girlfriend. I said, 'Yes, this is my girlfriend, Paige.'"

"Yeah, I picked up on the word Paige." Paige's tone was sarcastic but light.

"And she said, 'Maganda.' 'Beautiful.'"

"Aww… So, how did she know that we were together?"

"Paige. We're a very perceptive people. My Mom always used to tell me, 'You can never put anything over on a Filipina!' So, be careful!"

"What did she say to get you all worked up?"

"She said she wished for us to be as happy and in love as she and her husband, and may we never know what it means to be alone. I don't know. It was more beautiful the way that she said it."

The next rooms that they visited were far less emotional, although just as rewarding. Before the team left, they spent some time in the community room where many of the residents, some with their families, were assembled. The team had brought plenty of Cardinal trinkets to share with the grandchildren and even "coached" some of them, guiding their arms through the various strokes and teaching them some of the Stanford fight songs and cheers. They posed for countless pictures - even signing autographs, no doubt earning several new fans and some aspiring recruits of Stanford Swimming.

The team was abuzz with excitement on the way back to campus. Each one had stories to tell, and they were all looking forward to doing it again the following year – or even sooner.

Back in their room, Paige mentioned something that she noticed about Emily. "You have a real connection with – what's the word we're supposed to use and not be offensive? – 'elderly' people."

"You think so?"

"I mean, it's as if they're cosmically attracted to you. The home in Rosewood, Lytton Gardens, the Herndons…"

"Yep, the elderly love me!"

"It's mutual."

"Well, I just enjoy hearing about their lives. They've had so many experiences, but they're at an age where they don't have a lot of people to listen to them. People our age are just so interested in themselves, you know? Everything we do has to be posted for the world to see. But, their generation, they're like a storehouse of treasure that's not going to be around much longer. And when they're gone, nobody's going to be left who can still tell their stories."

Paige couldn't help pulling Emily in for a kiss. "You're kind of amazing, you know that? I love it when you get all philosophical."

Paige texted Emily that she had a surprise to show her when she got back to the dorm. Emily had a pretty good idea what it was about. Paige had convinced her father that she needed a car to get around in while she was at Stanford, since she was going to be living there more months out of the year than at home over the next four years. He agreed to sell her old car and add a little something to whatever it fetched. Paige had been geeking out on car sites ever since.

When Emily opened the door, she tried her best to be excited for Paige. Paige was off the chain, and Emily didn't want to bring her down. Paige had draped a pillowcase over the screen of her laptop for the unveiling.

"Ta da!" she beamed as she whipped off the covering, gesturing toward the screen like a game show spokesmodel.

"Oh, HELL no!" Emily yelled. "No way. Nope. Not in a million years!"

Paige was prepared for Emily to react negatively when she saw that her vehicle of choice was not so much a car but a motorcycle – a used, 2014 Kawasaki Vulcan 1700. "Okay, but hear me out!" she pleaded. "Just for cruising around campus and getting into town, it'll be fine! And I can get a lot more motorcycle for the money than car. Imagine it, Emily: me on my bike, you behind me, holding on as we lean through a turn, the scent of leather in the air, the air that's whipping through your hair – under a helmet, of course!"

Emily did get caught up in the imagery for a second, but she was quickly back to herself. "First of all, Paige, there is no safe way to ride a motorcycle. 'Motorcycle safety' is an oxymoron. Second, it's not practical. We'll still end up borrowing a car if we need to get somewhere, so what's the point of having a motorcycle? And, finally, it's not going to happen, because, 3) Coach Meehan is never going to go for it, and 4) Nick McCullers is never going to go for it!"

Paige hung her head. "I know, I know."

"Is this that old sitcom trick, where you show your dad something outrageous to make the car that you really want seem not so bad?"

"No, I don't even have a car in mind yet. I just wanted to dream for a second."

"Aw – it's a beautiful dream, Paige. I didn't mean to squash it. And you almost had me with that image of the two of us riding together!"

"That would be awesome, wouldn't it?"

"It sure would. But I can't even think about that, right now. You know we've got an intense week ahead of us, with this Arizona trip coming up!"

"Tell me about it. I figure we'll get up at 5:00 tomorrow and get some sprints in on the track before we hit the pool?"

"Yeah. That sounds good. What's your workload like for tomorrow?"

"I think that I've covered everything that I can cover right now."

"Same here. What do you say we do some actual car shopping before dinner?"

Emily pulled her chair up to Paige's desk and the search was on. "Can I at least take a test drive on a motorcycle?" Paige said, not really getting into the car search as she still fixated on the Kawasaki.

"Do you even have a motorcycle license?"

"I can get one!"

Emily sighed. "Oh, God! I don't know why I'm telling you this."

"What?"

"My Dad's got a bike. An '02 Indian."

"No way! Really?"

"Really. Army thing. You know, men and boys love to play with their toys. God, he loves that bike. My Mom and I can't stand it. When you come out to Rosewood this summer, be sure to tell my Dad that you were looking at getting a motorcycle. He'll definitely take you out to the track. He'll probably buy you a helmet and leathers. He'll probably adopt you. And you'd be his favorite daughter."

Paige leaned in and kissed Emily, saying into her lips, "Then I am definitely" - finishing one kiss and starting in on another - "coming out to Rosewood this summer!"

"Great," Emily said between kisses, "Not only am I a motorcycle orphan, I'll be a motorcycle widow, too!"

"Admit it, Fields, you'd kill to see me in leathers and a helmet!"

"Mmmm – You know it, McCullers!" Emily snuck her hands underneath Paige's shirt. "But I'd rather see you out of them."

"Yeah?" Paige teased, as Emily stroked her chest, "We can make that happen, too." She was losing her breath under the assault of Emily's hands.

"We're supposed to be going to dinner," Emily reminded her, showing no signs of stopping.

"I'm not really hungry, are you?"

"I am," Emily replied, lowering her hands to the inseam of Paige's jeans, "but not for anything that they have at the caf!"

"Paige!" As soon as Emily unlocked the door, she ran over to Paige and gave her a hug. "Thank God you're all right!"

"Of course, I'm all right! Why do you sound so worried?"

"I've been calling and texting and e-mailing you all day. How come you never got back to me?"

"Oh, would you look at that? My phone died! Sorry, I didn't notice."

"And you haven't checked your e-mail?"

"You know that the WiFi's been out in this building all since last night."

"Oh. Okay. Sorry, I just got scared. I thought that you were dead, or passed out, or... something worse."

"Something worse than dead?"

"Yeah. I thought, I don't know. You needed space, or something."

"Em," Paige said, sweetly, giving her girlfriend a kiss, "That doesn't really sound like me, does it?"

"No, I guess not. Not in the least."

A/N – I apologize to any Tagalog speakers for my Google translations! Feel free to comment or PM with any linguistic or cultural corrections, and I'll edit the chapter. Thanks!