Truth Untold

7

Boston

What can I say? The rain is always a part of Efrain anyway. That's why when it rained, it always reminds me of him.

After the initiation training wrapped a couple of weeks ago, here came the first business trip: Boston. Boston turned out to be not as bad as what I initially thought to be. It wasn't as nice as Manhattan, but the fact that I survived these three weeks into this business trip said a lot about the city I was about to stay in for two more weeks.

As much as I dreaded the traffic in Manhattan, I would always have excuses for it. It was getting severely troubling for me at time, the traffic, but I just happened to enjoy the thrill of days and shrill of nights. Never once I had the feeling to leave from Manhattan. What is more to say? It's my home and that's enough reason to stay stuck until as long as forever can hold out the time for me.

The days in Boston rolled up rather slower than in Manhattan. The city wasn't as hectic, wasn't as jammed up crowded, maybe that's why the day rolled down rather slower. Or I just kind of hated that I wasn't home for weeks now that's why the days felt like dragged instead of running its pace.

Meetings after meetings finally came to an end at the dusk of the day. It was a few minutes past eight as I made an entrance to my room after the whole day being out with clients. The hotel bed missed me too much and so did I. The meeting ended up a little early than its usual so I had some extra time to pamper myself. It had been days I hadn't used the sheet masks I had managed to grab a bunch from my last trip to CVS with Efrain Harris. Speaking of Efrain, a new notification sprung to life from my phone after the short text I sent on the way back to my hotel room. How can you get early pass? Anyway, a call now? His text read, asking for night phone call—the habit.

I called him—just because I was too tired to type a reply, his cheerful tone greeted me as per usual. "Hello, there Princess. You don't usually be the first to call. What's up?" he asked.

"Can you give me like thirty minutes? I haven't showered and whatnot. I would really love to catch up with you but my body is in urgent need for a long hot bath." I said.

He puffed, and puffed again for the second time. "Thirty minutes are like overrated for shower or bath, don't you think? Love, seriously, fifteen minutes tops. It should be enough for whatever shit you're doing in the bathroom. Come on."

I sighed. Are men really clueless about the duration of one woman spend in bathroom on regular basis? They'll be amazed that women actually find peace and like to stay behind a little longer in the bathroom. "Efrain, please do mind your language." I said, he mumbled quiet sorry. "And, come on, I really need to wash the grim of the day. It wasn't exactly a long day but one can only hope so much for rare extra time of a hot bath, Ef. Please." I pleaded.

"Fine, take all the time you need, Love. Text me when you're done." He gave in at last. Phew.

As I put on the mask—it was green tea, my last beauty regime of the night—I typed a text to Efrain, telling him that I was all done with my routine. You're still there? A call immediately blared to life.

As soon as I hello-ed at him, he asked, "Have you finished your hot bath?" So no hello or proper greeting this time? Okay then.

"I have. It was 28 minutes and a few seconds, I managed to get everything done in less than of the amount I asked you. You should've sounded a little happier, you know." I told him.

He puffed. What was this puffy Efrain tonight? "Why do I have to be that happy? It was only a minute or two faster anyway. Besides, you should've done past than thirty minutes so I have a valid reason to video call you, you know to exactly know what you were doing in the bathroom that it had to take up to more than thirty minutes." He explained.

I laughed, "Did you just ask permission to see me naked through a video call?"

He gasped, "Well, kind of. You're not wrong. I mean you were never wrong most of the time, but you caught that quicker than most people would. It is mind blowing how you got all my adult jokes."

As the conversation fell to a flow, it started to shower outside—first rain since I arrived here in Boston about three weeks ago. It was the end of winter but somehow it managed to rain in Boston. I didn't complain though, I love rain. "It's raining outside." I said out of nowhere in the midst of shared comfortable silence.

"It must be your favorite kind of weather, night with a rain, right?"

I nodded, a smile stretched on my face. Split seconds later I just realized that he couldn't see my smile so I hummed a little. "How was the meeting going out today?"

"It was fine, more than fine actually. There was this girl, she knew nothing about ad but she had pictures vividly etched on her mind about what she wanted. She even did some research about the design. I totally appreciated what she did. I meant she was no one professional in what I do, but she took the time to learn what she can while she's at it.

"At the meeting earlier, she elaborated the whole concept about what she wanted. It was so much easier to work on the project when the clients are very aware of what they want and the way to achieve it." I finished my comment.

He chuckled as I continued, "She was really nice, like I am at loss of words because eventually there is this client who asked for relevant things. You know not one who asked you to build a... a temple overnight. Not only it was impossible, it was also plain stupid in my opinion. Faith in humanity restored. She was really, really nice. I finally can say that clients aren't always a bitch to work with, some people just need a hug, around the neck, with ropes."

He laughed his ass off, "You sounded so damn excited about your work just now. It totally amazed me how you can put it so nicely about something that isn't nice at all. That damn skill of yours, now I know why you're the best content writer I have ever met." He replied.

I laughed lightly, "And let me tell you what's even better. Do you know what's more beautiful than sunset?" he mumbled a quiet what. "The kindness of people I've met." He snorted. "It's true though. Those clients we've had back in Manhattan can be a little...mean, but as I work this first deck I can get my hands on, I've been actually feeling that this isn't bad at all. I've met lots of great designers who are completely capable and professional on what they do. On top of that, they have manners and kindness. And that is beautiful, you know, the kindness on people."

"I know that working with people who are nice and kind is great. My team here, they are as great as they can be and it's amazing. I feel like I'm living my life to the fullest. But then there you are every single night talking about people's kindness in general or in whatever things they do. It should be classified as general manners—the things they must do because that's what humans do, but since you are so used to the world being harsh to you, you never expected that kindness still remain.

"It's saddening me, to be honestly speaking. Because, Love, you deserve the world and more than the world, the kindness so much more than it can offer. The only reason why you always have the nicest clients, the kindest people to work with is because you are extremely nice. You are that nice. It scares me out sometimes how your kindness can only make people take you for granted. You don't deserve any of that. You deserve the finer things, the luxury of loyalty and the beauty of kindness. If you stop yourself for a second, you'll see why only the kindest people walk into your life; because you are the kindest at heart, period." He reasoned.

I smiled softly, chuckling to cover up the one or two drops of tear now streaming down my cheeks. "Oh, Efrain."

In that very night then I came to realization of what benefited me for being so called kind: I've got my Efrain Harris, the person whose heart remained bigger than the whole earth, whose each of his finger tips held so much more kindness than one person in his whole body. I've got my Efrain Harris who despite that he was busy, he had some unfinished business or probably dead tired that it was past his bedtime still made the effort to call me. I've got my Efrain Harris, whose voice remained to be my home—the only place I've could strip naked after wearing the facade all day—my only great escape.