“If he’s okay with it? Just a few minutes, really.”
She nodded, starting to chew at her bottom lip. “You think he’ll be driving himself up to the hotel?”
“No, he won’t be.”
“And this Elmo guy will be attached to him until he takes off for his room?”
“Most likely.”
“I can probably help you, but I have stuff to do. It’s still errand day for me, you know.”
“Of course,” Ben said. “I have a car and can take you anywhere you need to go.”
“Don’t you have other things to scheme?”
“You’re part of the scheme, and we start tonight anyway. Let me help you do errand day.”
“It’s just—“
“Where are the errands?”
“A bunch of places.”
“I don’t mind, I really don’t. I won’t ask what we’re doing there.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Unless you want to talk about it. And then on to the scheme. You’ll help me? I’ll drive you?”
He wasn’t sure if he addressed all of her concerns, but her look of hesitation disappeared. “It’s hard to turn down an offer to drive me anywhere, especially during horrid errand day. Yes, Ben. Thank you.”
“Awesome. We’ll have an adventure.”
“I don’t know if you’re using it right,” Naya said. “It’s not that kind of day.”
For him it was, already. He’d tell her all about it later.
15
The first stop on this unfortunate See This Naya “adulting” tour was a clinic three blocks down from the park. She didn’t even think about it, but as the sign flashed at her she realized that she maybe should have left Ben at the park and then met him after this thing. She didn’t need a ride. But when she checked the time and said her appointment was soon, and started walking, he fell into step beside her and she let him.
“So it’s this kind of errand,” she said, pausing before she pulled the glass door to let them both in. “I shouldn’t take too long. This place is pretty efficient; it’s why I choose it when I have to. Do you want to wait at a coffee shop somewhere first?”
“I saw one across the street, yeah.”
Naya did too. Across the street was the right amount of distance, if she wanted that, and he was sharp enough to suggest it. But then, she didn’t want the distance? She was happy to see him. “You know, it really won’t take that long. Save your cup of coffee for later. Just wait for me here?”
What? So she managed to surprise herself with that one. That wasn’t too clingy, was it? You were ready to do this alone today. What’s up, girl?
Thankfully, Ben did not act as skeptical as her own inner monologue. In fact, he slid into the pause and pulled the door open for both of them. “This is reminding me of stuff I need to get done.”
And it just reminded her that he lost his mom to sickness and it affected him enough to write a passionate speech about it. Was she the worst? She was the worst. “I’m sorry. When…was the last time you did your labs?”
“Two years ago? I did the executive annual physical for the first time and...it was a lot. Makes you think about your life. I’ve been ‘too busy’ for it for a while.”
As a matter of fact she was doing that, thinking about her life choices, even before she got the message that he wanted to meet. Naya was used to having her sugar, uric acid, all these values checked yearly. She even calibrated her diet when something was on the high side. Not something she thought about when she was younger and had a regular job, but when she left corporate, reality bit—she couldn’t take her health for granted. Sometimes she lost a day’s income because of Manila’s weather, but she got it back as soon as the sun reappeared. When she got sick, it was hard to function, even when her temperature was back to normal. She needed to be a hundred percent all the time, otherwise people wouldn’t want to pay for the pleasure of being shown around.
She wasn’t ready to admit it to anyone who knew her back then, but those days of traveling all day, editing for hours, and having a video up the same day or first thing the next morning? Naya could not do that anymore. She didn’t even want to.
Lately she was doing this a lot. Second-guessing herself, the choices that led her to this. But Ben did not know her then, so it was okay to show some cracks in the armor. “It’s a pain but we have to do it.”
He shrugged. “We’re not immortal. Are you afraid of needles?”
“I’m not. This shouldn’t take too long. I’ll be back in a sec.”
The way the clinic was laid out, Ben could sit in the waiting room and not have to see her get her blood drawn. He didn’t have to see her head to a small bathroom with a cup, then go out and hand it half-full of pee to the nurse. That would have been too much, for a second day ever with someone.
Fifteen minutes later she emerged back out into the waiting room, hands clean, and nodded toward the door. “Done.”
He’d been reading something on his phone—he did not do that the whole time on her tour, and it was funny to see him do a normal thing. This time he was quick to put the phone in his pocket and out of sight again once she showed up. “Awesome. Where’s the next stop?”
“One of the portals to hell,” she answered. “Or not, if we’re lucky.”
They were only in the car for thirty minutes maximum, but she liked how he drove. Smooth, sure of himself. She watched how his hand rested on the gear stick in the moments before he tensed his muscles and used it. She liked being on a passenger seat, watching someone drive, looking at their profile. Noticed his strong jaw, his eyelashes, the way the world changed slightly through the filter of his eyeglasses. A few times he’d glance at her and she would avert her eyes somewhere else, forward, but this was a good view. No regrets.
The second stop was the nearest NBI Clearance office, still within the neighborhood but Ben didn’t want to have to walk back all that way to pick up his car.
“NBI,” Ben said, when he saw where they were headed. “Dear God.”
Naya hadn’t ordered and picked up an NBI Clearance in years, but reviews online said this branch was not so hellish, all things considered.
“I’ll wait outside for you,” he added.
“Avoiding the NBI, Ben?”
“Makes me itchy. I’ll be here when you’re done.”
It didn’t make sense for him to go inside with her anyway. One didn’t “hang out” in government agencies for the fun of it—they were places that sucked you in for hours just because. Although the printout in Naya’s bag assured her that she had an appointment.
It took less than half an hour to be done with lining up, and biometrics, and waiting for the actual clearance. Ben wasn’t right outside the door though, but she eventually found him having coffee at the Starbucks on the ground floor.
“Done?” he asked.
“Yep.” Naya took a seat at the same table and looked at the printout for a second, wondering if she should have her second coffee of the day. “Don’t rush your drink—my next appointment isn’t for a few more hours. And I need strength for it.”
“So you’re cleared?”
“By the NBI? Yes, always.”
“Good for you.”
“My name is Amansinaya Nicoletta Llamas,” she said. “That’s why I’m always clear. Thanks, Mom and Dad, for a name some kids made fun of when I was young, but gets me through every time now because no one with the same name has committed a crime.”
“Old fashioned justice. I’m so impressed. Amansinaya.”
“I know, right.”
“It’s beautiful.”
Naya knew that, in her head. She knew that her parents were proud of their heritage, and any enthusiasm she had for her country and its people came from them. That didn’t stop kids named Janet and Stacy from telling her that her name was so weird. “You should learn to use other words. Since you write spin for a living, and all.”
“Ouch. I also like to tell the truth, you
know.”
“Then what are you doing working in politics?”
“Technically I’m not, anymore.” Ben’s coffee was brewed, hot, possibly with milk, and he knocked his knuckles on the large white mug. “I’m in consulting.”
“Freelancing.”
“Yeah, just like you.”
Not just like her, because he looked like he was fine, and she was not. Or did she look like that, so hopeful and refreshed, in the first six months of deciding to go on her own? Should she tell him that it won’t always be advocacy fun and games, or would that be inevitable so why bother? She was happy for him, if he found purpose.
Was there enough of that to go around?
“I’ll get a coffee too.” Naya had decided. It was going to rile her up, but maybe she needed that. She was dreading the next stop. Maybe coffee would feel like purpose.
16
“Are you okay?”
“Can I…I need a sec.”
Ben would have offered her water or a stiffer drink, but Naya was fine with just placing a hand against the wall and leaning on it. The wall was a textured concrete, there to close off the parking lot from the rest of the block, and not the cleanest of things to lean on.
He had an idea what the next location was, as soon as she said the address. He knew which route to take from Six 32 Central, which roads to skip, where to park. In the car they talked about three things only (eco-bags and how many they had, triclosan avoidance, and how her eyesight was still 20/20), which surprised him because the drive had to have been at least an hour, or longer. He said stuff, and she said stuff, and the car rolled along, and then he was parking. If he could have her around every time he needed to drive anywhere in the city, that would be awesome, universe.
Did he just—yeah, he did think that.
They did not talk about why she was going back to the office she quit in what she said was high drama. He was bringing it up for the first time, there at the parking lot, right before they crossed the street toward that building.
“Naya,” he said, hopefully sounding as tentative as he felt, “mind if I asked a question?”
“What are we doing here?” She knew, at least. She sighed. “I don’t really know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know?”
“I mean, I’m here because I need to get something done, and I’m seriously rethinking what it is.”
Errand Day flashed back to him, and it wasn’t so hard to figure out. The medical exam, the NBI Clearance, and this as the last stop on what would have been a very efficient day, all things considered. “Are you going back in there for a job?”
“God.” Like she had sucked on a lemon. “I was trying not to say it aloud for so long, and yes, it sounds very strange. It’s like my system wants to reject it.”
“But you hated it here.”
“I did. I think I still do.”
“How are you going to…?”
She blinked at him, with slight annoyance. “I know you understand why, Ben.”
There were other things she could do, but Ben knew for a fact that most of them, if far enough from the bridges she wanted to burn, would pay her much less. He knew the two-sided conversations happening entirely within one head, when it came to that. He had those thoughts, confronted that same Practical Ben. “Are things different, at least?”
“Same guy’s in charge. But my friend got promoted, and I might be working with her instead.” Naya’s exhale was heavy though. “She said she’ll shield me from the bad stuff, as much as she can.”
“Naya.”
“And it’s another consultant job. Not exactly an employer-employee relationship. I can leave, again, if I think I’m being made to cross a line.”
“You don’t look too happy about this.”
“I can’t be. I’m settling, is what it is. I’ve been beaten by the real world, and I’m crawling back to this place. It’s what happens.”
Was that what happened to him? “I guess it does. But…but you don’t need to feel defeated doing it.”
“Haha. What does defeat without feeling defeated look like?”
You, Ben wanted to say. Too forward? Too clingy? Too revealing, if he admitted that he actively thought What Would Naya Do as he started this return to All Right? Instead, he pulled his blazer open a little bit, revealing the design on his shirt, right where the left breast pocket would be.
“Oh my God.” Naya stepped closer, touched it with her fingers. “What does it say…?”
“Make Good Days.” Ben said, taking in the scent of her hair, because she made it close enough to happen. Make Good Days, the design said, in beautiful calligraphy, surrounded by blue and green flowers.
“Is it by the same artist?”
“Her contact info was on the card.”
“You thought of a better statement. I’m so proud of you.”
He thought of her, really, and it was his inside joke to himself and the universe. “But when I had the shirt made I printed it smaller, more discreet, you know.”
“Of course. Tasteful. Ben, I…I’m flattered? Should I be?”
“Yes, you should. You know you helped me that day. How can I help you today?”
Naya’s face scrunched up, a caricature of discomfort. “I couldn’t tell anybody this, do you know that? I couldn’t tell my parents. Melly doesn’t know either. Everyone thinks I’m doing okay. ‘Aren’t you doing what you love?’”
“You were. You still do tours?”
“I do. I also had to wake up and realize that I needed to do it more, like every day, to make sure I could afford to go to the hospital if I get sick. I didn’t want to hate what I’ve been doing. I didn’t want to blame it for not being able to take care of me, and buy me things, you know? That’s an asshole way to treat your love.”
She was absently stroking the Make Good Days design, right there on his chest. “Do you still like it though? Doing the tours?”
“I do. And they’re doing well—whenever I pop out a new one, I get paid and it’s worth the time and effort. It’s still the best paying hobby I’ve ever had.” There was a but there, and Ben saw it in her eyes. Instead, she said, “What’s your family situation like, Ben?”
“It’s just me.”
“Because—oh. Seriously? Since when?”
“Almost six years.”
Her hand pressed against his chest, a gentle push somewhere near his heart. “I’m sorry. I’m so dramatic lately—I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“No, you were about to say something. Tell me.”
“I should get over this.”
“You said you haven’t been able to tell anyone. You can tell me. It’s not like I’m one to judge; you know exactly what my rock bottom looked like.”
She was still wary, still hesitating.
“Your travel guy. Travel fling. What’s it called? Remember? You want to be someone else for a moment, be that with me. It’s okay.”
“My parents don’t have a lot of money,” Naya began. “I mean we’re okay, but they’ll be working all the way to retirement, and they won’t have a lot when they do. It’s the same for most of my relatives too. Steady jobs that they’ll be at until they’re old. You know?”
As one of two lawyers in the extended Cacho family, he knew. As the only one who was a writer and worked in government, he also understood the outlier life. “They don’t like that you’ve quit to do tours?”
“Oh, the opposite. They love it. Too much. It’s like none of them got to do what they really love, and I rage-quit one day and do this, and they’re so supportive. They use me as an example of money following passion. They see how much I charge for the tours and they think I’m raking it in, when it’s expensive to make sure people are paid well. I can’t ask them for help finding a new job...they don’t want me to give up on this.” Her eyes widened and she looked past him, toward the building, like it was a monster creeping up behind them. “Is that what this is? I’ve given up?”
“On wh
at? Seems like you haven’t.”
“I’m walking back into that building to give my clean pee results and NBI Clearance so I could...so I could experience the pleasure of working with these assholes again. But it’s not a bad gig, not at all, it’s just them. They made it difficult for me to keep loving what I do. And I’m going back there. For money.”
“You need to live the way you want to live.”
“I had principles.” Those eyes swung to him. “You—you have principles. You have them coming out of your ears.”
“Yes and you met me when I got thrown under the bus for them. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“Oh God.” Then she backed up right against the wall, and banged the back of her head on it. Just slightly—not strong enough to injure—but her hand reached for the spot the same time he did. They both hung on, held her together.
“You decide what’s right for you, Naya,” he said, into her forehead. “Or you stick around long enough to be the last one left.”
“You mean out-demon all the demons?”
“That’s everyone’s game plan, I think.”
“There’s also this,” she said, pulling a folded document from her bag. “Signed this to get my last pay. They refused to accept a signed document online and send the money to me. Said I should drop by for an exit interview first.”
“Assholes. It’s been years!”
“They like making it difficult.”
“But you deserve that last pay anyway.”
“Oh I’m getting it whether or not I join them again. It’s just...if I work for them again it solves a bunch of my worries.”
But piled on new ones. Ben totally understood, and shut up, and took note of the hand that was back on his chest, the head and body now leaning against him.
“You’re not a mascot,” he told her. “You’re under no obligation to live a certain way so people can live vicariously through you.”
What Kind of Day Page 8