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“Four days.” Sam stares into the mirror, meeting Mon’s eyes. “It’s been four days, Mon.”
“Sam…”
“Yes, he’s your friend, I know.” She puts her toothbrush back into its holder, perhaps a little too forcefully, and then turns to stare directly at her wife. “But it’s been four days.”
Mon frowns. “I can count, Sam.”
“This isn’t about counting!”
“Then what’s it about? Your friends are welcome here for as long as they need, why—”
“Have you ever seen any of my friends here for longer than a few hours?” It’s mostly a rhetorical question. One which Sam doesn’t give Mon time to answer. “You haven’t, because I kick them out. I didn’t even let them in until I met you.”
“I’m not kicking Nop out.”
Of course she’s not. Sam knows that Mon is the kindest person in the entire world, much to her dismay sometimes. Times like these. “You shouldn’t need to, he should be polite and leave on his own. Can’t he go stay with Yuki and Tee or your parents? I will pay for him to find a hotel.”
Deciding not to have this argument again — it was similar yesterday, during which Sam had pointed out multiple times that it was the third day of Nop’s one-night stay — Mon leaves the bathroom and returns to their bedroom to get dressed for work.
Sam follows her, sulking. They dress in silence before she gives in. She’s frustrated, not stupid. “I’m sorry, teerak. it would just be easier if we knew how long he plans to stay.”
“It’s not that kind of stay, Sam,” Mon responds softly, immediately forgiving her wife. She understands Sam’s frustrations, she only wishes she’d, well… just deal with them and accept that Mon can’t kick out her friend. “If he had somewhere else to go, he’d be there. And he won’t take your money. It’s okay, he’s not comfortable around you, either.”
“What?” Puffing her chest up, which looks particularly silly while wearing only her bra, Sam attempts to convince Mon that she’s fine. She’s above being uncomfortable around a boy like Nop . Of all people. “I’m perfectly comfortable around him.”
The attempt doesn’t work. Mon smiles fondly at Sam and cups her cheek with her hand, running her thumb over it. “I know you’re not used to sharing your home.”
“I live with you, in our home.” Sam murmurs in reply.
Mon shakes her head and leans in for a soft kiss. “You know I’m an exception to your rules, Mhom Boss.”
“Yeah, but…” As is often the case, Sam is momentarily distracted by Mon’s kiss, her mind telling her to move on while the rest of her tells her to take more, to grab Mon and fling her onto the bed and be late for work. Again. Of course, there’s the tiny fact that they haven’t had sex since Nop arrived Sunday night, which seems absolutely ridiculous to her and is no small part of her frustration with his prolonged stay. They haven’t even fooled around at work, and Nop doesn’t follow them to work! Then something Mon said crashes back into her mind. “Wait. Why isn’t he comfortable with me?”
It takes Mon a minute to realize that Sam isn’t joking. “My love, most people aren’t comfortable with you.”
Sam opens her mouth to argue, but she supposes Mon is right. It’s the natural result of years of building a cold, walled-off personality that has only really begun to break down relatively recently. The point used to be to make people uncomfortable, but she met Nop after she met Mon and thought maybe she’d already been getting nicer by then. Or maybe he’s uncomfortable with her because she’s royalty and therefore, by default, better than he is. Not that she thinks of it that way, of course. Not because she’s royalty, at least, but she considers that maybe he does. “He seemed fine at the wedding.”
“He was happy for me,” Mon wraps her arms around Sam’s waist, pulling her in closer. “And a little drunk later on. Give me a kiss and let’s go see what he’s made for breakfast.”
Sighing, Sam does as she’s told. After the kiss, much shorter than either would like, they lean their foreheads against one another. Sam murmurs against Mon’s lips. “I’d like to give you more than a kiss, MonMon.”
“Saaaaam,” Mon closes her eyes and pulls Sam tighter into her body. She misses her wife too, she just doesn’t feel it’s appropriate when her best friend — who used to have a very big crush on her, for years — is in the house. No matter how strongly Sam promises she’ll behave or be quiet, Mon knows there’s never any guarantee that either of them won’t get carried away and she’d rather be safe than hurt Nop’s feelings. It doesn’t occur to her that it may be worse the longer they keep apart, and this is the longest they’ve gone without sexual intimacy in a long time. “It’s good for us to not be constantly making love.”
“I don’t see how.”
“Because sometimes we’ll be apart from each other and we’ll need to manage.”
“I refuse to either be apart from you or to ‘manage,’ Mon.” Sam has started tracing circles on the small of Mon’s back, dipping her fingers quickly beneath the waistline of Mon’s skirt before sliding them up again. “He’s not at work.”
“I know.” Mon’s words are soft, carried on the sigh that escapes her lips as she feels Sam’s fingers run over her sensitive skin.
“Then come to my office at lunch today and let me show you how much I’ve missed you.”
Liquid heat courses through Mon’s body as Sam’s voice dips low and sultry, pooling in lower abdomen. Her heart beats faster. “Okay,” she whispers, even though she had planned to stay strong. She can’t remember why she had, though. Not right now, anyway.
“Okay,” Sam echoes, pulling completely back, disentangling herself from Mon, and grinning as she shrugs into her shirt. “Let’s get breakfast.”
Mon just stares at her wife, mouth agape, feeling turned on and now frustrated. “But…”
“Yes?” Giving her a challenging look, Sam opens the door, despite Mon still not being fully dressed. “You weren’t going to let me actually do anything to you, right?”
“Well, no, I guess not, but…”
“That’s what I thought.” Sam winks and smirks triumphantly. “See you downstairs, Boss Babe.”
Downstairs, Nop has already made a simple breakfast of omelets and chopped fruit and set the table. He hasn’t made coffee, because he’d already tried that Monday morning and Sam had almost murdered him. Politely. Today she greets him even more politely and goes directly to the espresso machine. “Good morning, Nong Nop.”
“Khun Sam,” Nop presses his palms together. “Did you sleep well?”
Sam did not sleep well, as a matter of fact, because her wife kept rejecting her advances and she’d been cranky and frustrated. But she just nods. “I did. And you?”
Nop slept like a baby, in fact. The guest bed at Sam and Mon’s house is the most comfortable bed he’s ever been in in his life. But he doesn’t want to seem too happy about it, since he worries she’ll think he wants to stay, which he most certainly doesn’t. Not with her . “Just fine, thank you.”
“Good morning, Nop,” Mon wanders in, saving Sam and Nop from more awkward small talk. “Thanks for making breakfast!”
“It’s the least I could do.” He glances at the back of Sam’s head, but she doesn’t react, so he places the omelets and fruit on the table and waits for the women to sit down. Mon does sit and silently gestures for him to join her, but he shakes his head adamantly and stands by his chair until Sam comes over, bearing two cups of coffee.
She looks at Nop. “Why are you standing?”
“ Sam .”
“What?” Blinking, Sam looks between Mon and Nop as she sits down. When he sits immediately after her, she realizes what had been happening and lets out a breath. “Nong Nop, you can sit down in my presence, it’s fine.”
“I was waiting for Mon, too, she just sat down first.” He pouts slightly and Mon chooses to ignore the both of them and their now-routine morning weirdness, grabbing an omelet and her coffee.
“Mmmhmm.”
Nop clenches his jaw, but takes an omelet and starts eating, staring down at the plate.
The only sounds during breakfast are the clatter of silverware against dishes and mugs against the table. When everyone’s done, Sam rises to clear the dishes, but Nop jumps up and grabs them first. “Let me. It’s the least I can do.”
“If everything is the least you can do, how is anything important?”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.” Sam looks at Mon. “Are you ready to go?”
Not for the first time, Mon wonders if this is what it’d be like to have children. She’s an only child and never really understood siblings’ propensity for bickering, but Sam seems to have it with Neung. Maybe, she thinks, it’s a Sam thing. “Let me pack our bags, I’ll be ready in five.”
With Mon gone, Sam and Nop are left alone again. Nop busies himself with the dishes so he doesn’t have to interact with Sam, but that doesn’t take long enough. He turns around and she’s still just standing there, scrolling through her phone. He swallows, sighs, and tries once more to connect with her. “I, uh. Like your car.”
Sam looks up, staring at him blankly, confused why he’s bringing up Duanpen while they’re standing in the kitchen. But, still, she’s not one to turn down a compliment. Especially one for her beloved Porche. “Thank you. Her name is Duanpen.”
“Really?” When Nop sees from Sam’s face that she’s absolutely serious he nods. “Of course. I named my motorbike, too.”
“What?”
He flushes a little. “Ramen.”
It’s a weird name for a motorbike, but Sam doesn’t understand why he’s blushing about it. She shrugs it off and nods her head. “You fixed it up yourself, right?”
Nop nods, proud. “I did.”
“Mmm. Mon told me. She said you’re very talented at fixing things, but your passion is cars?” She leans over and glances towards the office. Surely, it’s been five minutes. Where is Mon?
“Anything with an engine, really.”
Sam cuts her eyes back to Nop. “Why?”
“What?”
She shrugs. “Why engines? I like making content to challenge the way people think about life. I want to leave my mark. Why do you like fixing engines?”
“You… do?” For some reason Nop has always just assumed that Sam had started her company the same reason all rich people started companies: to make more money. He has never thought that maybe she has a passion for something — besides Mon, of course — the way a normal person like him does. Though there’s something a little royal about the idea of leaving her mark, he supposes at least she lets other people have a say.
Sam stares at him, completely silent, face impassive waiting for him to answer her.
Nop swallows past his nervousness. “Engines are the heartbeat of Bangkok.”
That answer interests her. “How so?”
“We need them for life, every day. How many other things are like that? Food, yes, but all the foods are different.” He shrugs, sure that he’s not expressing this correctly for her. “But engines are in every car, motorbike, tuk tuk… that brings the food to you or the workers to the kitchen. Without engines we wouldn’t have the modern age.”
Now Sam blinks, not from impatience, but surprise. “That’s… quite the answer.”
Embarrassed, Nop puts his hand on the back of his neck and shrugs. “It’s what I told my father.”
“And what did he say to that?”
“That if I think engines are so important there are plenty of factories I can work in to assemble them, and I won’t have to worry about business. He says I don’t have a mind for business.” The anger in his voice is evident.
“Well. Do you?”
“I’ve been reading up.”
Sam nods. “I have some books I’ll loan you.”
“ What ?”
“About starting a small company. They may help.” She sees Mon returning and sighs, relieved.
Mon looks between Nop and Sam, wondering why Nop is staring, dumbfounded. She rests her eyes on her wife. “What did you say?”
“That I’d loan him some books about business,” Sam shrugs and holds her hand out for her bag. When Mon gives it to her, she keeps her hand out, waiting for Mon’s as well. Sam likes carrying Mon’s bag for her. “Maybe it’ll help with his father.”
“Oh.” Mon leans in and kisses Sam on the cheek before smiling at Nop. “Well, that’s very sweet.”
“Yes,” Nop manages to croak out, still shocked. “It is, thank you Khun Sam.”
“Mmm.” Sam is already halfway towards the door. “I suppose we’ll see you for dinner, Nong?”
“Oh, uh.” Nop looks at Mon, who nods encouragingly. “I suppose. I can pick something up. It’s the least—”
“No need,” Sam raises her free hand so he will stop talking. “Text Mon what you want and we’ll get it on the way home.”
“O-okay.”
But Sam is already gone. Mon offers him another encouraging smile and a slightly over-enthusiastic thumbs up, and follows after her wife.
Sam is waiting for Mon by the passenger side of the car, the door already open. Mon stops before getting in, and smiles at her. “Thank you, my love.”
“What for?”
“Trying to be nice to Nop.”
“I wasn’t.” Sam is genuinely confused. “He wants to start a business and he wants to convince his father that he can. I want him out of our house. Loaning him my books is a mutually beneficial solution.”
“Yes, and it’s very nice, too.” She drops into her seat and smiles up at Sam as she closes the door. “I love you.”
When Sam slides into her own seat, after dropping their bags in the back, she murmurs in response to Mon, still confused. “I love you, too.”
Mon leans over and whispers. “I can’t wait for lunch, ChamCham.” She pulls away with a small nibble to the softest part of Sam’s earlobe. She leaves her hand on Sam’s thigh, just lightly running along the seam of her pants.
Sam says nothing, but takes a deep breath. She breaks more speed laws than usual as she drives them to work.