Kevin has definite benefits, I remind myself as he swishes the wine around in his mouth like it’s Scope. He is gorgeous, of course.
He’s a doctor. A doctor who loves kids. Okay, his car choice could use some guidance, but I just can’t help but think, What is this interview with the parents? Did Arin make the cut? I mean, I love Arin, but she’s no brain surgeon. And men have a way of making beautiful women into who they want them to be. Did Kevin try that with Arin and fail?
In a way, it’s the men’s own fault. They automatically equate beautiful with the best, rather than the neediest, most high-maintenance chick you’ll ever date. Me? I just come with regularly scheduled, five-thousand-mile maintenance. There has to be a long-term benefit in that.
But I have the distinct feeling Kevin is not making his own decisions here. “So how did you two meet?” Mrs. Novak asks.
“I’m a friend of Arin’s,” I say, waiting for a reaction.
“Arin’s?” His mother says as though I’ve just said I shared an open-mouthed kiss with Madonna onscreen.
Kevin speaks. “They knew each other from church. Arin and Ashley both sing in the church band.”
“Do you have a musical background, Ashley? Musical minds are very good at math,” Dr. Novak states.
I listen to David Crowder in my car. “No, not really.”
Now the parents are looking at each other. I’m not making the cut, and I couldn’t be more pleased. Not that I don’t want Kevin. He’s not out yet. I’m just not up for in-laws like these two. My parents are bad enough . . .
“She reads music for the band,” Kevin offers.
And then, my cell phone rings. It’s my mother, and suddenly I could kiss her for her beautiful, nagging phone calls. “Excuse me,” I say, as though I’m so important. “This will just take a moment. Hello. Ashley Stockingdale.”
“Ashley, are you back from that horrible place yet?”
“I’m back. I’m in San Francisco. Just got home an hour ago.” I am a top attorney, I should not be rattled by my mother’s nagging voice. Yet, I am human—and you know how dogs hear certain sounds and then howl? It’s like that with me and my mother’s tone sometimes. Kevin’s parents are seeming healthier by the moment.
“The church is having a festival the day of Dave’s wedding, so we’re moving it up to Vegas. I planned the shower for Sunday. I sent out invitations and called everyone who didn’t RSVP already. We have twenty-four people coming and so you’re going to need to get started.”
That woman can stress me out like no VP of engineering who ever lived. I’m supposed to plan a party for what, two days from now? I walk into the foyer where I can talk in a hoarse whisper. “Mom, I am the maid of honor. I’m supposed to plan the shower.”
“You were planning it, until you took off for that third-world country without telling us. I had to call your secretary to find out my own daughter was in Taiwan. Ashley, you just will never find a man if you pick up and leave like that.”
“Mom, this really isn’t a good time to talk. I’m meeting a friend’s parents. Just meeting them for the first time.” Come on, come on. Remember all that first impression garbage you taught me?
“Well, since you’re in the city, get some good prizes for the games. I figure we’ll need about six things. Spend about $15 each. What did you want to do about food?”
I’m trying to unclench my teeth, but my words come out between them. “I was planning to do the whole event at a restaurant.”
“Ashley, I just told you it’s at my house on Sunday. Your brother is getting married in three weeks now. We have to have a shower for Mei Ling. It’s not their fault the church double-booked.” Kevin and his parents are looking for me and I edge nearer, smiling as if I’m wrapping it up. But my mother is showing no signs of slowing.
“Mom, it’s tacky to have your own daughter-in-law’s shower.”
“I don’t have time to think about that now. The invitations are out and I’ve already called everyone. Listen, come over here when you’re done at your friend’s. We’ll work on the menu. Maybe we can shop tonight.”
“Mom, I’m surviving jetlag; I am not going shopping tonight. I’ll be lucky to crash into bed.”
“We can’t all wait for you to work yourself into an early grave. Your brother only gets married once.”
I’ll believe that when I see it. “Gotta run, Mom.” I turn off my phone, and both Kevin’s parents are looking at me like I’m talking to the space station.
“That was your mother you spoke to like that?” Mrs. Novak raises her eyebrows in disapproval and looks at Kevin.
I feel like I’m in a cage at the zoo. Throw me a peanut.
“My brother’s getting married. My mother’s a little stressed about the swiftness of it all.”
“I can certainly understand that. Is there a reason the wedding must be swift? We believe in allowing a minimum of fifteen months between the engagement and the wedding,” Mrs. Novak says.
“I guess they’re in a hurry. True love and all that.”
Kevin’s parents aren’t smiling. “What college did your brother go to?”
That’s it, I’ve had it. “He’s a bus driver,” I say with conviction. “A really good bus driver.” My espresso comes and I throw it back like a tequila popper. “I’m actually getting very tired; my trip is catching up with me. Kevin, would you mind?”
Kevin stands immediately, like the good son his parents have taught him to be. He shakes hands with his dad firmly and kisses his mother’s cheek. “So I’ll see you both on your next time through. Kiss Emily for me.” Kevin faces me. “Ready?”
“Nice to meet you, Dr. and Mrs. Novak. Have a wonderful conference and a safe trip home.” And get me a business card for that plastic surgeon. Fabulous, just fabulous work.
We clamber into the elevator like I’m getting on the plane to America. I look up and Kevin’s stony expression has completely died. He’s staring at me with those intense green eyes and a hunger I haven’t seen for a good hour now. This is the Kevin I remember. He must despise his parents as much I as I do! We can elope and avoid them for years at a time!
I swallow hard as he moves in for a kiss. Lord, let my heart stand up to it.
16
You kissed him on the first date?” Brea’s mouth is dangling open and since we are outside the church, I can’t help but look around at who heard her.
“Shh. Why don’t you just use the microphone?” I ask. “Announce that Ashley Stockingdale is easy like a lightbulb-bake oven.”
Brea covers her mouth in that elegant way of hers. “Sorry, Ashley, I’m just shocked. You’re not a kiss-on-the-first-date kinda gal. Especially when he was just dating your friend, what’s her name, that girl who sings with you? The scrawny one.” Brea leans in, all concern for Arin dissipated. “Was it a good kiss?”
I’m wiggling my eyebrows. “It was a curl-your-toes, pump-your-heart, swirl-your-stomach kind of kiss.”
Brea screams and grabs my hands and we jump like a pair of pogo sticks. Before we remember we are refined Christian women who would never do such a thing.
“Where?”
“First, in a parking lot in San Francisco by his jalopy. Then, in the elevator at the Mark Hopkins.” She’s still staring at me. “What?” I ask. “Honestly, it was the most romantic kiss I’ve ever had. It could have been in a Venice gondola for all I felt.” I haven’t broken the parental unit issue to her yet.
“When are you seeing him again?”
“He’s not off until next Thursday.”
“Is he going to call you?”
Brea just has a way lately of sucking away my joy. How do I know if he’s going to call me? Isn’t that one of the great questions of life? Right up there with why am I here on earth? Who knows what goes through a man’s mind in regard to the Phone Call. You know they create this whole debate in their mind. Otherwise, it wouldn’t take until the Wednesday after your date to call.
“I don’t know if he’s go
ing to call me,” I say, my voice shrill.
“John called me the next day after I kissed him.”
“John is a freak, okay?” Brea’s husband is presently standing on the steps, once again gazing longingly at his wife. It’s enough to make one sick. He doesn’t stalk her or anything. He’s just mesmerized by her, like normal men view football.
She licks her teeth at her husband. “Isn’t he yummy?”
I roll my eyes, disgusted. Is there even another response?
“Ashley?” Seth breaks our reverie, thank goodness. He approaches with his hands in his pockets, smiling, and I’m startled that my tummy still cartwheels and his eyes still tempt me. I’ve just been romanced by a man with the hands of a surgeon and yet this engineer with his hands in his pockets produces a huge lump in my throat. This is so not funny! “Can I talk to you a minute, Ashley?”
“Sure,” I say as if he means nothing to me. But my heart is pounding and my stomach is just surging. It’s everything I can do to hold it together. “Brea, I’ll see you this afternoon at my mom’s house. You are so dead if you don’t show.”
“I’ll be there. Do you think I’d miss seeing who on earth would marry Dave? Please, it’s like being invited for an alien showing. See ya, Seth.” Brea kisses my cheek and takes off, bubbling to the next person she sees on the church steps.
Seth is looking at his feet and I want to shake him and scream at him to tell me what he’s thinking. I can hardly wait for the words.
“What’s up?” I finally ask.
His stunning eyes meet mine again. “You didn’t call before you left for Taiwan.” He looks hurt, and I can honestly say I didn’t know he had it in him. Just this smidgen of emotion sends me over the edge. I have this overwhelming desire to kiss him—on the church steps, no less! Where’s that on the list of lustful sins? Did I not just kiss someone else the day before yesterday? Didn’t I just tell Brea it curled my toes?
“I’m sorry.” I smile. “I got so busy with the briefs, then I was off to Taiwan and yesterday I went in to work and I’m helping my mother with my brother’s shower and so I just didn’t get a chance.”
But Seth doesn’t seem to be listening to my excuses.
“I thought about what you said to me that day at Chevys.” He pauses, and looks around him. “You know, in the parking lot.”
“Yes, I remember.” It was right before I bought the deadly violet bra. That day is just better off forgotten. Well, except for the Dr. Kevin part.
“We’ve been friends a long time, Ashley. I would never do anything to hurt you.”
I nod. What can I say? He did hurt me. And he made a fool out of me. And that ticks me off more than any of it. I should be skipping, telling him all about Dr. Kevin, but Seth’s gaze still unnerves me. He still rattles me with every piercing engineer glance.
“Will you let me make it up to you?” he asks. “I think I owe you a real date.”
A mercy date? I don’t think so. “You don’t have to make it up to me. I just don’t want you to do that again. Not to me or anyone else, Seth. You have to be careful with how you handle your . . . friends. Call me ignorant, but I thought you were asking me out that night.” My hand flies to my mouth. Did I admit that?
He nods and clears his throat. “When you were gone to Taiwan, I really missed you, Ash.” He doesn’t look at me when he says the next part. “I don’t miss Arin, and I don’t think about her.”
Can I just yell at You, God, for a minute? I have not had a date in six months! Not six months, God! And You’ve got to bring me two men in a weekend? It’s cruel. I’m not an irony kinda chick, You know!
“I don’t know what to say, Seth. You never really knew Arin. But we were friends. At least I thought we were.”
“Can we have lunch today? Just you and me. Not with the gang.”
Ah, the Reasons. I had completely forgotten about them. Sad that my whole identity has been wrapped up in a group of people who really mean nothing to me after a week’s absence.
“I can’t do it today, Seth. I’m throwing a shower for my brother’s fiancée.”
He looks defeated. Like he’s missed out on a flower at the rose ceremony. I should stand right here and tell him that I’m dating Dr. Kevin Novak. That I kissed him and fireworks ensued. But when I think about how that would hurt Seth, I clamp my mouth shut. I’m a schlub. Maybe because Wednesday hasn’t arrived yet. I don’t know if I’m dating a doctor or if I just hit a momentary lustful weak spot, it being Fabulous Friday and all.
“Maybe another time then.” Seth starts to back up the steps. People are entering the sanctuary in droves now, and we should be joining them.
“Seth,” I say with a twinge of desperation in my voice.
He grabs my hand and squeezes. “I’ll call you,” he smiles.
Great. Now I’m waiting for two phone calls. Is there a sign on my back that reads SUCKER or what?
After an hour-long sermon on the importance of Christian honesty and integrity, I slink back to my apartment more confused than ever. In one hour I’ll wear that plastered smile as relatives ask me when I’m getting married. (Hence, the reason I went to church on this harried day. I need to be reminded that God is with me through this.) I’m generally very happy being single until I’m reminded how awful it is by well-meaning friends and family.
I can just hear them now in Scarlett Southern drawl, “Oh, Ashley . . . however do you manage all alone like that? With no one who cares whether you come or go. My dear, it must be horrible for you.”
My phone is ringing. I know it’s my mother telling me to stop at the store for some aspic or something, but I don’t recognize the number. “Hello.”
“Ashley?”
It’s a man. Wonders never cease. “Yes?” I say with a certain familiar drawl. I really need to get a life.
“Ashley, it’s Dan Hollings from high school. Nancy’s brother. She said she ran into you at Bloomingdale’s and that you were single . . . like me.”
Dang.
“Right, Dan Hollings. She’s just darling, your sister Nancy.” Sticking my finger down my throat. What was that about Christian integrity and honesty? The bolt of lightning is coming any minute now.
“I was wondering if you might be free for lunch sometime this week to catch up on old times.”
Lunch is good. Lunch is short. Lunch can be severed by a simple cell phone ring. “That would be nice.” I am going to kill Brea.
Dan Hollings was in the band in high school. That, in itself, is not a deterrent. I always did have a penchant for the geeks, but Dan Hollings thought he was popular. Under his delusions of grandeur, he hung around the cheerleaders while they laughed at him and sent him to get their sodas. There’s a picture of him in the yearbook where he’s shoved in a garbage can, surrounded by foot-ball jocks, and he always said it was staged for photography class. Yeah, sure it was.
Dan’s still talking. “Is Friday all right? I heard you work in Palo Alto; I do too. Maybe we could meet at Fresco’s.”
Fresco’s. Okay, well the cheerleaders taught him one thing. A tightwad is not an attractive trait. “That sounds wonderful. That’s one of my favorite restaurants.” What is with the perkiness? The guy could take me to the Top of the Mark but he’s still Dan Hollings.
“Great. I’ll make reservations.” His voice sounds like an announcer voiceover. A fake baritone tossed with a side of wheedling. “See you at noon on Friday.” Just the way he says it makes it seem like he’s overconfident or that my knees should be weak. Ick. Ick. Ick. I am going to kill Brea.
After some idle chit-chat, I hang up the phone. Three dates. I have been asked on three dates in a week. I know there is some terrible fate waiting to befall me and that God has some Supreme Lesson for me to learn; I’m just hoping it’s not this upcoming date. I riffle through my shelves looking for that book on personal boundaries.
I’m definitely lacking personal boundaries because:
1. I’m throwing my brother a shower today,
when I just got home two days ago. (It’s at my mother’s house, no less!)
2. I’m dating a man I don’t even want to see again, much less date. (Come on, would I really marry into that cheerleader’s family?)
3. I couldn’t be tough with Seth or tell him about Kevin, and most importantly . . .
4. I’m wearing that vicious violet bra again! I thought I threw it out.
No Boundary Book to be found. I’m going to be late. I probably gave the book away because I couldn’t tell someone No, buy your own book. Purchasing two books on personal boundaries is certainly a symptom of some mental illness. Maybe I should invest in a DSM–IV book and diagnose myself. I’m sure whatever I have, it has something to do with my parents. I’d probably be quite normal if I came from a different family.
But I digress. I am fabulous now, remember? I look in the mirror and rake my fingers through my hair, talking to my reflection.
“You are Ashley Wilkes Stockingdale. You are fabulous. You do not have to be married to be fabulous. Anybody can be married, but you won’t settle for just anyone. No, you are waiting for the Mr. Darcy of your time. The Colin Firth of the Christian set.” I pucker my lips and blow myself a kiss. I am ready for anything. Even my extended family and my brother’s wedding shower. Bring it on!
Phone again. Caller ID says it’s Mom. Hmm. Really debating answering this one, but she’ll just nag me on the cell. “Hello.”
“Oh good, Ashley, I caught you. Listen, your brother wanted to get Mei Ling something nice and didn’t have time to stop by the store. Do you have anything lying around the house you could wrap up?”
“Like birth control pills?”
“Ashley! Your behavior these days is absolutely appalling. I did not raise you to be such a smart-mouth. Ashley Wilkes wouldn’t talk that way.”
What a Girl Wants Page 13
