What Kind of Day

by Mina V. Esguerra

  Naya had a tan line on her arm, right where the short sleeve of a shirt would end. It didn’t make a difference, when it came to how the skin tasted or felt. What it did was remind him of what she was wearing on the day they met. Their first day. Their only other day.

  “Slow enough for you?” He remembered to check.

  “Perfect,” she murmured.

  He explored her elbows, her wrists, the slight curve under her breasts, the spheres her nipples became. Fingers first, then tongue, for everything. He wasn’t slow, necessarily. He thought of it as lingering, staying, discovering what he hadn’t before. She was wet now, and ready, but he wanted to linger there too. Gently, he stroked her where she was wet. “Here?”

  “Yes.”

  Fingers, then tongue there too. He heard whimpers but they were like commands, telling him where to go, what to do. She came around his fingers; graceful in his eyes even as she panted and all but cried out.

  “You okay?” He pressed a kiss against her thigh. “You want more?”

  “Yes more.”

  “You want it slow?”

  “Still slow, yes. You think you can handle it?”

  He laughed at the challenge but really, this was a test and he couldn’t believe he was doing well at it. Not when he knew as soon as she asked for a quick fuck he’d switch gears and it would be so fucking quick. But he did as he was told, as was expected. He wore the latex and slowly, slowly pushed inside her. Pushed in deep, and held.

  “So good.” She said that.

  “Yeah?” It felt decadent, lazy. He did want to stay there for hours, for the whole day, never leave. He didn’t want to think about work the next day, the things he was supposed to do. He pulled out slowly, almost completely, and then slid back in again, deep. “Fuck.”

  “Yes. Like that.”

  Like that, until each stroke was delicious but also painful, until her moans became more and more urgent.

  “Tell me,” he grunted into her ear. “Tell me if you want it harder.”

  “I will.”

  “Tell me if you want to fuck now.”

  “I will.”

  Another slow stroke, and he willed himself not to come, not until she got what she wanted, not yet—

  Naya laughed and it was the best sound. In the top three of all sounds in the world. “Now. Now. Okay, harder, now.”

  Then it was hard, and very, very fast.

  Ben woke up because his elbow was shaking. No, because it was being tapped, very lightly. Naya was sitting, fully dressed, on a chair beside his bed. He did not have a chair there; she had brought in the one from the dining area. This confused him for a second.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  “Hi. I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”

  That…is not ominous at all. “How about we get something to eat? I don’t have to be at work until—“ But he wasn’t sure what time it was, and his phone wasn’t where it usually was.

  “Ben.” Naya was sitting cross-legged, and he wondered how long she’d been awake before he got his tap. “I didn’t ask for my job back, yesterday.”

  “Oh. Oh. But you didn’t want to work there again anyway?”

  “I didn’t. I didn’t know what else to do, either. You kind of found me again right when I was swallowing my pride for once. I might have signed a contract and gotten an epic I Told You So if you hadn’t suddenly appeared.”

  He felt sore and sleepy but this needed his attention and he pushed himself to sitting. “Is that a bad thing? I can’t tell if you think it’s a bad thing.”

  “I don’t know. It’s just…I thought I was doing something yesterday that would help me out, and then all I did was take my last pay and leave. I still don’t have a job. I’m—I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. And I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?” No, no, she should not be apologizing. Not for last night, not for anything.

  “Yesterday I was supposed to do boring errand stuff. Get documents. Get my job back. I ended up telling them I didn’t want my stinking job back. I yelled at a senator. And I had sex with you when…when…”

  She yelled at David? What? How? But Ben needed that last part even more. “When what? What about sex with me?”

  “When I was having a bad day.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that.” As far as he was concerned, nothing wrong with that at all. He’d been on board with everything she wanted to do, whatever she needed it for. “Good days, bad days, just tell me what you need.”

  “You’re not a travel fling. Do you get it? You’re not. You’re a great guy who’s smart and principled and great in bed and you live like half an hour away from me. I shouldn’t use you to fill voids in my life.”

  “You’re making it sound bad. You helped me when I had a really bad day.”

  “I know, I know, and I had an excuse for it. But I can’t use the travel fuck excuse now.”

  “Why does it sound like you’re dumping me?”

  “It’s not spin. I’m frankly taken aback by you, you’re like a unicorn in government. And not in a bad way—I think you do what you can, and you’re not above mistakes, but you seem to be willing to fix things.”

  “So what’s so wrong with that? With this?”

  She raised an eyebrow, calling forth the spirit of the strict teacher he first saw her as. “Excuse me. It took you five months before you contacted me again. And why?”

  “Because I didn’t want you to see me at rock bottom.”

  “Yes.”

  “But what if I want to be around to help you.”

  “What if, that’s not a thing you get to decide?”

  That stung, because truth.

  She added, “You had your time; it’s fair that I have mine. I’d like the chance to fix things without having someone watch and wait.”

  “Why are you telling me not to wait?”

  Me, like she had said it directly to him, when she’d said someone like it could have been anyone. He wasn’t overreaching. It was a completely reasonable assumption given the circumstances. It was also totally, completely a whine.

  Worse, he had more whine: “Don’t you think we have something special here? I wasn’t even looking for someone. For anyone. I’m so used to dealing with every fucking life emergency alone and then—and then you. And it felt great, Naya.”

  “Maybe it’s just nice to get yourself an orgasm on a really bad day, Ben. Don’t we know that already?”

  “That’s not what it is. Well, maybe just some of it. But not all of it. I want to spend the good days and bad days with you.”

  For a second, Ben wished he had relationship experience. The kind that lasted longer than the two months of dating, hooking up a few times, then calling it quits because he could never really say he would be done by eight or free on Saturday. Because when they said to him they’d had enough, he let them walk away. Law school, then work, that was everything to him at those times. And all that work had saved him when he wasn’t sure how to deal with his grief. He was productive during loss, or maybe it helped him deal.

  “Naya,” he said. “If you want to leave because you don’t think I can handle it, please reconsider. I don’t mind learning how to be better at this. I think—I think we’re great together, we just need to spend more time actually being together.”

  “I agree,” she said, her voice soft and apologetic. “But I don’t think the time is now.”

  “Why not now? We’re both here.”

  “It’s not up for debate, Ben.”

  He felt a vibration on the bed. His phone had buzzed, notifying him of a text message. And another. And another. He didn’t want to take his eyes off her but it sounded urgent.

  “I think it’s there. Under the pillow.” She pointed with her finger and uncrossed her legs.

  “Just a second. Don’t leave yet.”

  A series of messages, from Tana. He grudgingly read them. Okay, this was important news.

  “What’s up?”
Naya asked.

  “I...have my job back.” Ben almost couldn’t believe it. “Our scheme worked.”

  “What—really?”

  “Yeah. Tana’s the senator’s new chief of staff. I’m back on the comms team. Elmo’s been let go. Shit, I suddenly have a job.”

  “See?” Naya straightened up, her body language all but announcing her exit. “This is going to be another big change. It’s not a good time for you either.”

  “Maybe it’s not about perfect timing,” he said. “Maybe it’s just always going to be levels of shitty, Naya. I still think it’ll be great for us if we were in this together.”

  “You have to give me time to come to that conclusion, you know. Since we’re both adults here. I should go.”

  He didn’t want her to go. An outline for a longer speech was forming in his head, an entire argument he felt he could win. About how her passion was contagious, how he was only able to do what he did because he thought of what she would do. What would Naya do. And if being around him spurred any kind of feeling, got her to take any kind of action...wouldn’t that be good for her too? He could cite examples. Memories. He’d be able to quote things she’d said, proof that trying it out together was better than staying apart. If she was going through the exact same funk he was in the past few months, maybe he was in a position to help. If she’d let him.

  But...it wasn’t a debate.

  “I’m going,” she said.

  He nodded reluctantly. He couldn’t say yes; it was as if saying the word meant he agreed with her. “What did you tell David?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You said you yelled at the senator. What did you tell him?”

  Naya cringed. “Something about getting a backbone. How he’s supposed to keep hope alive in people like you, but he failed you.”

  This made him feel good, and warm, and impressed. David did not get yelled at often. He wished he had seen it. No doubt it influenced the events that followed, that he was now benefiting from. “I think you helped make this happen, Naya. What just happened—it’s a big deal.”

  “Oh, sure. It’s either my little outburst, or the night he just spent with his Secret Lover Boss Woman. This is still sneaky risky business, your world. I’m not sure if an idealistic rant helped anything at all.”

  “You know what I mean, Naya. You make good days.”

  She pushed herself off the chair, brought her face close enough that he felt her peppermint-scented sigh. “For other people, I guess. That’s my specialty. I’m glad I gave you another good day, Ben. You really are a great person.”

  One last kiss, lips against cheekbone, and then she left.

  Good thing he had a job again, a real one, because he needed to channel that productivity from loss somewhere.

  21

  “I love you.”

  “Thanks, Melly.”

  “Even when you’re being stubborn as shit.”

  What would she do without her cousin? Best friend, practically a sister, sometime business partner and driver, now roommate. Naya wasn’t sure what she brought to the table. Yay for being related? Naya was probably given a lot more patience than Melly’s other friends. “Gee, thanks.”

  “I didn’t even know that going back to the old job was on the table. You were miserable.”

  Yes, and Melly would remember that, because Naya complained about it often enough. It was a miracle that the ranting hadn’t seeped into her own videos. “Alice kept telling me that things were going to change soon.”

  “Alice has like the highest tolerance for bullshit I’ve ever heard of. You were waiting for a management change at that place for years.”

  “I thought it was me,” Naya admitted. “For so long I thought it was me. That I needed an attitude adjustment. Because other people were there and they could do it, and maybe I could too if I just…stopped caring.”

  “Naya. You can talk to me about this. I mean if it’s work, we can figure it out.”

  “Excuse me, Little Miss Business Major.”

  “Double major. And another degree on the way. But it shouldn’t be the choice between having absolutely no income or going back to the toxic workplace that rewarded mediocre men. I’m sure we can find better options for you than that dystopia. Will you let me help?”

  That was a misrepresentation; Melly had always helped. Every iteration of Naya’s career, even this one where she was crashing on her cousin’s couch. “I know you’ve been doing that all this time.”

  “I’m cool that way.”

  “I love you.”

  “Thanks, Naya. Can we shift the topic back to Ben though?” Melly peeled the paper wrapper off her egg sandwich, purchased there at the café, and took her first bite, chewing silently.

  “Aren’t you late for work or something?” Naya asked. She didn’t think she’d catch her cousin at home at all. On a school day, Melly was out of there before eight. They’d run into each other at the lobby as Melly was heading out, and now they were parked at the café across the street for sandwiches and coffee and words. Naya had quickly mentioned where she’d come from, but then she was able to change the subject.

  Not for long, apparently.

  “I have time,” Melly said. “All afternoon classes today. And I never catch you on a morning walk of shame—no wait, that’s not what we call it. What do we call it again?”

  “Nothing. Late night, that’s all.”

  “Right.” Melly giggled. “But this is rare, so I’m here if you want to make your ‘late night’ my business.”

  “There will be no other business with him, I said.”

  “Naya.”

  “Melly.”

  “Amansinaya.”

  “Pamela Grace.”

  Melly bit into her sandwich again. “Well, you’re an adult. I guess you know what you’re doing. I mean, he works in politics. Yuck. Of course you won’t want to see that again.”

  Naya shrugged, then sipped from her coffee cup.

  Melly went on, “And you know they’re all the worst. I mean, you worked there. You quit what would have been a dream job because of them. They’re all the same. You even helped him heist his way back into his old job. Because people can’t write proper resignation and application letters? Can’t trust people who work in that system at all, if you ask me.”

  What could Naya say to that? So she just blinked.

  “And,” her cousin said, index finger on the table for emphasis, “how old is Ben? Early thirties? That means he only has a few years left.”

  “A few years left of what?”

  “Of looking like a hottie. He’ll hit forty then he’ll start looking like them. Trapos all look like, it’s wild. I think there’s a memo and a uniform and also required photo poses.”

  They both thought that. “Melly.”

  “I’m helping you feel better about your life, Naya. Maybe you’re right to walk away. Don’t think ‘not all trapos’ with this guy. Maybe he is just like them, or he will be.”

  “I love that you’re making sense but it’s so early.”

  Melly smirked at her. “It’s late, for you, because you’re super tired from all your business. I’m perfectly awake. But okay, I’m trying to understand why not him. You just—it’s new, and it should be okay to make mistakes sometimes. You literally spent only two days together.”

  I don’t want him to become a mistake. Naya’s eye twitched, from the thought, and Melly noticed, so now she had to say something. “He seems like a great guy and I don’t want him to be someone’s mistake. Not mine, first of all.”

  “Wow. He’s that pure? He can’t be.”

  “It doesn’t matter. The adult thing to do is to step back.”

  Step back, remember that she didn’t need this, remember that he had his own completely separate thing going on and if they couldn’t manage to make their lives intersect and fit years ago, it was not realistic to think they could do that now. She learned this from experience. Adults learned things from when they were yo
unger, duh.

  “You really do believe all that independence stuff, don’t you?” Melly asked.

  Naya remembered that Melly had been in a long-term relationship for most of her twenties. They’d broken up before they turned thirty, and this was Melly’s second year of being single and it was probably the longest stretch since she started dating. The mindset was just different. “What are you talking about?”

  “The cousins, everyone else—they love you, but they think you’re kidding yourself about the travel flings. Like, you’re never going to ‘find a man’ that way.”

  “I never said that’s what it was for.”

  “I know, I know. But you know how families don’t believe you? Or they think you’re on this sad downward spiral of sex and self-esteem issues? It’s not just you, honey, but you too.”

  Oh, she was aware. She was lucky that it was easy for her; she had always thought her independence was a feature, not a fallback. “Still, it’s none of their business.”

  “Yes, I think I get that now about you. I used to think you were hooking up while traveling because you were lonely. Or you were lonely, and that’s why you traveled and hooked up. But it’s not that simple, is it?”

  “I’m not lonely.”

  “I’m beginning to understand it. And you’ve always told us that, but it’s easy to not believe you. You have been queen of doing things for yourself, ever since. I also know that if you want something, you can get it done.”

  I make good days. “I guess I do.”

  She did do that. Naya was not in her element lately, but maybe it was a funk she’d get over soon? The travel business could become sustainable. She could transition it into something she could do, while she worked on something that would take better care of her. She could think of these things, and not freak out, and not go running back to toxic environments.