She's Out of Control

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She's Out of Control Page 15

by Kristin Billerbeck


  “We’re ready to go,” I say. Finally. I look at my watch. It’s 9:30. I started this process at 6:30 and I’m not even at work yet.

  Finally I walk into work and put Rhett in the dog area. Yes, we have a dog area. It’s one of the ways that Silicon Valley geeks pretend to be relational. We have dogs. Marriage may be out of the question, but living together and dogs, they can do that. It’s all so forward-thinking. Not. I’m quickly realizing that this myth of doing it all is just that. And I’m a complete moron to bring a dog and a baby to work. Does my brain function at all? Mensa, hah! I wouldn’t pass the SATs at this rate.

  Hans meets me on the gated back porch for dogs. “What’s all this? Who is this?”

  “This is Miles, my best friend’s baby. It’s a long story, but he’s here with me today. I’ve brought blankets, toys, videos, you name it. This baby is going to enjoy my job, even if it kills my back.”

  My cell phone rings and Hans’s eyebrows lift. “I hope I’m not getting in your way,” he quips.

  I answer the phone anyway. It might be Brea. “Hello?”

  “Ash, it’s Brea. Can I talk to my little man? His mama misses him like nobody’s business.”

  “It’s my girlfriend,” I whisper to Hans. “The baby’s mother. She wants to talk to her baby.”

  Hans tosses his hand at me. “When you’re available.” He places his palm on his stomach and bows. “At your leisure, naturally.” Then he walks away and slams his office door.

  I put the cell phone next to baby Miles’s ear, and he starts to giggle and chew on it. His baby slobber is everywhere, and I’m wondering how on earth any mother stays professional.

  I wipe the phone off with my jacket. “Brea?”

  “Please bring him here. Please. Please. I’m going crazy without him. John doesn’t want me lifting him, but if you held him up to me . . .”

  “You’re asking me to bring contraband to the hospital?”

  “Please, Ash. I’m begging you. Miles can’t forget his mama.”

  I look at Hans’s closed door and quickly see my promotion dwindling, but then there’s my best friend begging. It’s not pretty. “All right. Do you want anything else?”

  “Will you stop and get me a Jamba Juice? Miles and I like to share them.”

  “Where’s John?”

  “He went to work.”

  He went to work. Did it ever occur to him that he could take his son to work with him? “Where’s your mom?”

  “She had her Christian Ladies’ League at the Country Club. She’ll be back this afternoon, but she said it was important for her to go because they’re planning the craft fair.”

  I want to explain that a country club appointment is, like, not a job. But I doubt I’d get very far, and Brea’s feelings would be hurt. Besides, I don’t want her to think I don’t love Miles. I love Miles like my own. I just have no natural affinity toward this mothering thing.

  I knock on Hans’s door softly. “Come in!” he shouts harshly. I open the door and his eyebrows are lifted, as though waiting for my excuse. “What now? Ashley, I’ve got stockholders breathing down my neck and a product to get to market. Do you think you could try to focus on your work?”

  “We’ve been in Taiwan for two weeks. I’ve done everything I can to get this patent out, but I need some time for myself.” And here it comes. “Do you think you could keep an eye on Rhett in the pen out-side? I have to run really quickly to the hospital. I’ll be right back, I promise.”

  He crosses his arms. I won’t bother to describe the look on his face. “Are you really asking me to babysit a dog while you gallivant around, coddling a child who’s not your own?”

  I want to suggest that Sophia could do it instead of him, but I doubt that’s going to help my case. “You see, my friend Brea is having pregnancy complications and—”

  Hans holds up a palm. “Do not say another word! I don’t want to hear about women’s issues. I have enough women issues in my life. Just go and come back when you’re a man.”

  “Huh?”

  “Once you have morphed back into the genius patent attorney I hired, come back to us.”

  “So is that a yes on the dog? Because Rhett, my puppy, is really active and—”

  “Ashley,” he says evenly. “Do you suppose I care about your dog’s personality?”

  “Um, no.” I shake my head. “Not really, no.”

  He points at the door. “Just go!”

  I take Miles’s balled-up fist and move it to motion bye-bye. Hans is not the least bit amused and I cut my losses, rushing out the door. One thing I learned about Hans when in Taiwan is that his patience level goes from zero to ballistic in seconds. He can be the epitome of European charm, then Bam! He’s like the Third Reich unleashing its fury. I honestly wondered when we were in Taiwan if he was bipolar. In his mind, it’s completely rational to scream an obscenity at a helpless Taiwanese employee in a meeting. And speaking of helpless employees . . .

  We stop at Jamba Juice, an overpriced smoothie store, and get Brea her fruit drink. My back is killing me from all this in-and-out with the car. What a complete pain in the neck. Literally.

  We get to the hospital, after a million stoplights and mall traffic at Stanford. I suddenly realize I have no warm water for Miles’s bottle, and he’s not happy about it. I put him in his stroller, find him a binky, which I pray is clean, and head to the cafeteria. He starts screaming. Soon I am pushing the empty stroller, carrying him on my hip, and trying to shove the binky back into his mouth. All while I’m juggling a diaper bag the size of Brazil.

  Sitting right beside the hot water dispenser is Kevin. He stands up immediately, his face a study in amazement. “Ashley, what are you doing here?” He’s wearing his white doctor coat and just looks yummy, though I know I shouldn’t notice. I’m on the rebound. I’m on the rebound.

  “I brought Miles to see Brea.” I hold him out. “Will you hold him for a minute so I can get his bottle ready?”

  “Sure.” Kevin holds Miles and the baby immediately calms.

  “Wow, you’ve got the magic touch. I wish I’d had you last night.” Did I just say that? My hand flies to my forehead. “I mean . . .”

  “I know what you meant. Kay told me you were at Brea’s. I figured you had your hands full, but I’ve been on call nonstop anyway.”

  “You called?” I suddenly need call waiting? It’s like I’m fighting them off with a stick, I tell you. Not really, but it does my heart good to pretend.

  “I wanted to bring Rhett to the hospital to see Brianna last night, but Kay said you had him.”

  “Why didn’t you call me on my cell? You could have picked him up.” I’d trust you with my dog. And maybe a tiny piece of my heart.

  “I wanted to give you some space.” He shrugs. “I tend to run roughshod over people when I want something. I’m trying to tame that.” He stares me down with those gorgeous green eyes, and tame is just not the word that comes to mind.

  “Next time, call. It’s about a child, not me. Okay?”

  I turn toward the water spout and try to ignore the underlying current between us—that neon blue electrical force that I feel with my whole being. I’d forgotten how attracted I’d once been to Kevin. How his kisses had literally swirled my stomach and rocked my world. I’m staring at him while reliving the moment. I think I’m blushing now. He hands Miles back to me and my heart races at his proximity. He stays beside me, intimately close, just a moment longer than necessary, and it unnerves me.

  “I’ve got the night off Wednesday. Will you be at Bible study?” Kevin asks.

  “If Brea’s okay with the baby, I will be.” This is awkward. The most stilted conversation I’ve had since my last bad job interview.

  “Could we get a cup of coffee afterwards?” He looks down at me with an austere look. So Mr. Darcy. Yum. “Ashley, coffee?”

  My hands are flailing like one of Brea’s Italian conversations. “Coffee could lead to dessert, and dessert could lead to ano
ther meal out, and then, before you know it, I am your girlfriend. And I’m a terrible girlfriend, Kevin. Ask Seth.”

  “Seth wouldn’t know a good girlfriend if she hit him over the head. Which I’m sure she’s been tempted to do. I know I’ve been coming on strong, Ash, but it’s just coffee. I promise.”

  “No, definitely no on the coffee.” I start to back away and finish the baby’s bottle with a shake. I notice his eyebrows lift.

  “If this wasn’t so fresh with you and Seth, would you say yes?”

  A young woman comes in and stands beside Kevin before I answer. She’s got to be in her twenties, with dark brown locks cascading down her back; big, brown eyes; and the tiniest tennis bracelet gracing her petite wrist. She’s holding a Bible and she smiles at me, thrusting her little wrist toward me. “Hi, I’m Kendra. Who’s this precious bundle?” She is reaching out for the baby.

  “That’s Miles Wright, my friend’s baby.” She gets no chance to ask when I’m going to lose the baby fat. “I’m Ashley Stockingdale.”

  Her expression changes. I could swear there’s an instant change of mood, and her chirpy demeanor is clouded over by a dark, contemplative stare. “I’ll be waiting over here for you, Kevin.” Not so much as a good-bye smile for me.

  I look at Kevin’s apologetic eyes and wonder what I’ve stepped into. “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong? Are you two . . . you know?”

  He laughs. “Of course not. Would I be asking you out if we were?”

  I shrug. After nine months with Seth and no boundaries, who knows?

  “It’s just that maybe,” he continues, “I’ve mentioned you a time or two before.” He looks away.

  “Mentioned me how? Like I eat my young?”

  “As the reason I’m not seeing anyone else. You know, avoiding her.” He grins and the corners of his eyes crinkle just as his pager goes off. “Hang on.” He picks up his phone and pushes a button. “Dr. Novak calling in.” There’s a pause. “No! Don’t let them touch him. I’ll be right up.”

  Kevin’s smile is gone. “I’ve got to go. Insurance company trying to kick out a very sick child. Think about Wednesday night.” He sprints off.

  My head is nodding on its own volition. “Okay.”

  “Coffee’s good.” He kisses my cheek. “I’ll see you then.” I grab for my cheek and Kendra moves toward me. I pull Miles in closer. Kendra opens her mouth to say something, then just stalks off.

  Coffee? I think to myself, didn’t I just say no? But, really, there’s no harm in coffee. Coffee is caffeine-laden. I will have a solid, clear head when I see him again.

  18

  Ischlep Miles to the third floor and scout for Brea’s room. It isn’t long before I hear her uproarious giggle, and I know I’ve found the right place. A nurse exists, and as we enter, Brea doesn’t even look at me. As far as she’s concerned, I’m the post behind Miles.

  She squeals like a horror movie extra. Her hands go crazy waving toward herself. “Give him to me. Give him to me!”

  “You’re not supposed to hold him,” I remind her.

  She pats the side of her bed. “Put him right here next to the rail. I won’t pick him up, but I can cuddle him and nuzzle his chipmunk cheek.” I lay Miles down beside her.

  “Oh, Miles, how’s mama’s baby? Is my big man learning to be a lawyer?” She coos.

  “Let’s hope not,” I say. “Hans will teach him to be the CEO with extensive stock options and others to do his bidding.”

  “Let’s pray that’s all Hans teaches him. How is your slimy boss?”

  “They all slither in Silicon Valley. Some are just more colorful.” I wink, enjoying my brief moment with creativity.

  “Spoken like a true cynic.”

  “I’m enjoying working for Hans, actually. His personal life is completely 90210, but he’s a good boss if you can put up with the occasional tantrums.” I hand Brea the baby’s bottle, she starts to feed him, and he snuggles into her rounded tummy. “I guess I feel a little sorry for him, too. He’s just chasing after the wind, you know?”

  “What’s he think of having Miles at work?”

  I shrug. “Didn’t give him a second glance. You look gorgeous. Are you really sick? Or just trying to get your mother to clean your house?”

  Brea purses her lips. “They stopped the contractions, but I can’t do anything for fear they’ll start again. I’m so tired of television, I could vomit.”

  “Speaking of which, Miles had a little stomach thing last night. He’s been fine today. Just really sleepy.”

  She rubs Miles’s belly. “You’ll make a great mother, Ash. When’s Seth getting back?”

  “He’s back.”

  “And?”

  “Wants me to go to Punjab with no commitment. Yep, Prince Charming awaits. I mean, I can be unemployed and manless here, can I not?”

  “I don’t want to hear about Seth. He’s yesterday’s news. What’s up with Dr. Kevin?”

  “Nothing. Nothing is up with Dr. Kevin, and I plan to keep it that way.” For once in my life, I’m going to behave like an adult.

  “I’m sure you do plan to keep it that way. You’ll find some new engineering geek to chase. Some new guy who thinks Prada is a Mexican parade.” Brea clicks her tongue. “You have the weirdest taste in men. Always did.”

  “It’s not my high-school boyfriend who turned gay,” I remind her.

  Her laughter dies like a plant in my care. “I just hope this thing with Seth finally tells you that you can do better.”

  I walk around the bed and sit at the foot of it. “I thought God was pointing in Seth’s direction. I think He’s trying to point out what I should steer clear of, but I’ve got a fairly hard head.” Granite, I believe.

  “Um, yeah you do.”

  “I have to ask you a question.”

  “I’ve got nothing but time.” She places another kiss on Miles’s forehead. “The longer you stay, the longer he stays.”

  “Do you remember in sixth grade when we watched that contra-band Thorn Birds tape your sister got us?”

  “Do I ever! Richard Chamberlain shirtless on the beach. It lives in infamy.” She points to her head.

  Rolling my eyes here. “Remember how Meggie was so in love with Father Ralph, but he couldn’t leave her for his God? He loved God more.”

  Brea’s face screws up and she nods, fanning her face. “I’m verklempt. Talk among yourselves. It makes me emotional just to think about it.” Brea starts to tear up. “And that week on the beach when he came and found her. She could never go back to another man.” Brea’s sniffling now, nodding her head up and down.

  I’m hoping it’s just the hormones.

  “Putting aside all of the sin contained in that movie—which you seem to be relishing, I might add—Meggie loved Ralph, but Ralph didn’t love her the same way. Oh sure, there was the temptation and the breaking of his priestly vows, but their love was bigger than that for her, right? It was a lifetime of unrequited love.”

  “Your point?” Brea asks.

  “A tragic, yet victorious story because Ralph ultimately loved his God more.”

  “Actually, I think he loved himself more. Wasn’t that the theme of the movie?”

  “Just stay with me here, okay? So Meggie couldn’t have Ralph, so she married another.”

  “Bryan Brown working hard in the cane.” Brea whistles. “Oh yeah, he was some consolation prize.”

  “Brea, I’m serious here.”

  “You’re serious about an ’80s miniseries?”

  “Yes. And the book was better, I might add.”

  “And why are we talking about this?”

  “Because I think I’m Meggie. I fall in love with the wrong men. So maybe I should avoid them altogether, don’t you think? I mean, the Bible says it’s better to cut your eye out than sin with it, right?”

  “You need a good theology class, Ashley. It’s not your Scripture, but your interpretation that scares me. I’m thinking muddling Scripture with The
Thorn Birds might be where you’re off.”

  “Come on, Brea. Help me out here. Why does Kevin want to date me? Or why does God want Kevin to want to date me? Because he’s the wrong man in some way and I’m supposed to figure it out, right? Wouldn’t it be smarter just to say I’ve grown and move on before the actual pain begins? I mean, I have a vivid imagination. I can figure out what it will be like.”

  Brea ignores all the instructions, lifts Miles over her head, and kisses him. I yank the baby down and put him beside her again.

  She rolls her eyes. “When all was said and done, Rachel Ward married Bryan Brown in real life, and Richard Chamberlain turned out to be gay.”

  “Thank you, People Magazine, 1984.” I look straight at her. “I’m serious, Brea. I’m really liking Kevin, but I know where this will end. He thinks about me, and who I am. He remembers I’m on Atkins and still orders me pancakes because that’s what I really want. He takes my dog to visit sick children. I love how he can perform surgery in the morning, but still be at the airport to pick me up. I love how I’m important to him. Until he catches me, and it all stops.”

  “You were important to Seth, too, Ash. He’s just a freak.”

  I exhale. “He’d rather run off to a third-world country and support a missionary he barely knows than walk down the aisle with me.”

  “A missionary?”

  “Arin,” I say reluctantly. The mere name makes me cringe and feel like such a fool. I remember when Seth was first meeting her, that day in Chevys. I should have noticed that he’d never looked at me that way. Why couldn’t I know that he never would?

  “Just because Seth wasn’t the one doesn’t mean there will never be another, Ash. Most women have ex-boyfriends. Even Christian women. You know what they say about kissing a few frogs. Yours just have a few more warts than usual.” Brea starts to giggle.

  “It’s been a year of on-again, off-again misery for me. I don’t want to do that anymore. But I’ll admit my weakness for bald men. Why waste a perfectly good head of hair on me?”

  “You’ve got to get back on the horse, Ash. Look, I’d be careful about analyzing The Thorn Birds too closely. I mean, they may have made Father Ralph look so desirable, but I can’t stress enough that Richard Chamberlain was really gay. Rachel Ward married Bryan Brown in real life, and they’ve got like three kids or something now.”

 

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