“Seth was there.” (Wailing here.) “With a redhead.” (More wailing.) If I were speaking in tongues, I might be more understandable. But I’m just wailing. The Jewish people have the Wailing Wall; I have Brea. No pretenses, no false fronts, just Ashley Wilkes Stockingdale unleashed in all my pathetic glory.
Brea crosses her arms. “You have gotta be kidding me.”
My tears stop with a sniffle. “What?”
“You are crying over Seth out with a redhead? He’s a Reason, Ashley. How many times have you said that when I said he was interested in you?”
There’s not an ounce of sympathy, and my pain quickly turns to anger. “Hey, was I not with you when you cried over whatshisname all through high school? When he asked Kohli to the prom . . . did I not ingest ice cream, truffles, and Coke all night with you? You so owe me. I probably own six pounds of your misery on these hips.”
“That was different,” Brea says as she plops on the couch, quickly piled on by two dogs.
“How is it different? Did you ever even date Kyle Lupinchec?”
Brea balks a bit, “No, but—”
“Did Kyle have your car in his garage? And put all of your stuff into storage so you wouldn’t have to worry about it?”
“Seth would do that for anyone.”
“I’m going to a hotel,” I announce. “I’m going to call a counseling hotline so I can talk to someone who cares.”
“Ash, come on.”
“No.” I force fists to my hips for effect. “How come it’s okay for you to be the drama queen, but when I have an emotional set-back, I’m just supposed to get over it?”
“Because you’re Ashley. The smart one. The stable one. The one everyone wants their son to marry. I’m the bad gene pool with- out the brains, remember? And now I can’t even have kids, so I can’t even do that part right.”
“What!” I’m tempted to put my hands around my best friend’s neck. She’s gone nuts. There’s no other answer. I will have to visit her in the “hospital” that no one calls a hospital. “You had one miscarriage, Brea. Not everything in life is perfect and tied in neat little ribbons. I know most of your life has been like that, but this is something you have to work for. I work for everything, Brea. There’s no husband or parents to rescue me. Who rescued me when my car got impounded in San Francisco?”
Brea shuffles her feet. “My parents.”
“And who stood up at my college graduation and cheered for the right school, unlike my own parents who thought I majored in business?”
“My parents and me.”
“Neat little packages, Brea. You tick me off.”
“Seth is a neat little package, Ashley. All tied up with a red bow, but you never unwrapped him because you always thought a better present was coming along.”
“I did not! That is so not true.” How dare she accuse me of being a man shopper!
“Uh huh. I think you’ve been in love with Seth a long time. You’ve just never been humble enough to admit your frailty. Well, you’re human just like me! Just like Dave. Just like your mother. That just drives you nuts, doesn’t it?”
“You’re not making any sense.”
“You pretend like you’re so distraught and so mental over all this stuff Seth has done to you, but this is your doing. Seth has always cared for you, always been there for you, and you’ve avoided him because he was not your Prince Charming. Because you imagine this romantic Cinderella story for yourself.”
I’m dumbstruck.
“Prince Charming can’t carry off a career woman who’s above the common romantic entanglement.”
“Career woman? How can I be anything but? I have to support myself here.”
Brea is unrelenting. “What did you say when Seth asked you on the ski trip to have dinner alone?”
“I had work to do, Brea. I’d already spent the day skiing. The Reasons were all there. It would have looked weird for us to go off by ourselves.”
“What did you say to Seth when he asked you to help him lead the singles Bible study last year?”
“I was traveling every other week. How would I have prepared for that?”
“And what did you just say when he asked you to watch The Matrix with him on your birthday?”
“That was him and Sam and their stupid weekly ritual. That wasn’t a real invitation.”
“I’d say Seth has done more than his share to reach out to you, and you’ve clubbed him over the head one too many times, Ashley Wilkes Stockingdale. And now you have Prince Charming on the line and you suddenly want the cook who’s been in the kitchen all along!”
I’m shaking my head. “You’re wrong, Brea. None of those instances were like you’re saying. There were practical reasons he asked me for all those things. Look at the dinner at Fresh Choice? Hmmm?”
“Payback stinks, doesn’t it? And practical is what you get with a man like Seth. You’d squash a romantic guy like a bug on the sidewalk.”
I clutch my chest. “Ouch.”
“I rest my case,” Brea says. “So pine over Seth or Kevin, or whoever you’re making out with this week, but get some focus. They’re both wonderful from what I can see. Make up your mind and find out who you want before you end up with no one.” Brea starts up the stairs. “Oh, and John and I are adopting that baby. I want the child to grow up in a Christian home, and there’s one way I can make sure that happens.” She slams the door upstairs.
What is it with me making people so angry lately?
I play Scarlett. I’ll think about that another day. I sign on my computer, and there are only two e-mails. Now that I have Spamkiller, I realize I have absolutely no friends. There’s one e-mail from Seth, and I open it immediately.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Ash, here’s your account number and password for your furniture, etc.
657584 Password: 777 (made that up, lucky?)
I explained to Larry re: Taiwan.
When you have a place, call him.
I have a working dinner tonight with one of the Barbies.
Call me on my cell if you need anything. S
I look over my shoulder, but Brea isn’t anywhere to be found. Thank Heavens.
“Ash.”
I jump about a foot. “What?”
Brea has quietly come downstairs. “I came down to say I was sorry. What’s Seth say?”
The words come tumbling out like a confession. “He had dinner with a Barbie tonight. He wasn’t on a date.”
Brea widens her eyes. “A what?”
“A Barbie. A lot of the sales companies employ these beautiful women to flirt with the engineers and sell product. Seth was with a Barbie.” She’s still staring at me and I’m trying to tame my smile. “Barbies are usually married. And if they’re not, they’re dating line-backers.”
“So Seth wasn’t actually on a date.”
“Right!” I squeal.
“But you were.”
Ack. Reality. Reality so bites. “Go away.”
I proceed to read an e-mail from Kay Harding regarding our Saturday night: bowling and square dancing. Is it too much to ask that my Saturday night contain more than the average seven-year-old’s birthday party?
“Square dancing, huh?” Brea is still reading over my shoulder. “What’s the good doctor doing on Saturday night? Maybe we could double date so John and I can meet him.”
“He’s probably working.”
“What’s wrong with him, Ash?”
“Nothing. And that’s a problem. He makes me nervous, like he’s too good to be true. He drives a Porsche, has a job, doesn’t live with his mommy. But there’s something really weird about his parents. I feel like they’re looking for quality genetic material. They creep me out.”
Brea crinkles her nose. “Ewww. He drives a Porsche? You’re dating a guy who drives a Porsche. How Wild at Heart!”
“I can have a wild streak.”
“I’m heading to bed.” She looks at my brief
case. “And don’t work all night. Get some sleep.”
“I need to surf the Internet to figure out what makes a Chinese wedding.”
“I don’t even want to know.”
“Dave says I need to, for Mei Ling. I can’t imagine why she doesn’t want a big American wedding with the Chicken Dance. Go figure.”
“Good night.” Brea ambles up the stairs.
I sit down at the computer and a new email pops in from Purvi. I shake my head. That woman will have her coffin wired with DSL.
Taiwan trip on. Big happenings. Let you know more later. Purvi
I wonder if they need a female Elvis impersonator when I’m in Vegas. I’m definitely going to check it out. It’s time to get out of my mode of madness. I might as well pick another.
After a few hours of strolling patent drawings, an instant message pops up. I look at my watch. It’s two a.m.
How was date tonight?
I ignore the IM with a strange address. I’m sure it’s some teen offering me a night of fun and free pics. New IM:
Wasn’t that you at the restaurant, Ash? I was with a Barbie.
My fingers get shaky, but I type. Seth?
Call me Ken. Or GI Joe.
I giggle deliciously.
Did her knees make funny noises like the doll when she sat? I type.
Huh?
Girl joke. Never mind. Did she sell you anything?
No, but didn’t drink. Saved her money.
How was her company? My fingers are twitching again. Not sure if I want this answer.
Shares Barbie’s IQ.
“Yes!” I punch my fist to the sky.
Where are you?
@Brea’s. Taiwan back on.
Bummer.
Had Last Supper. If I was only as good at conversation as IM.
LOL. Why are you up?
Have to look into Chinese wedding.
Something I should know?
Brother marrying Chinese woman next month.
Grew up in China. MK.
No way. He is not a missionary kid. I do not believe it. Not for a moment, but my heart is pounding out of my chest. How could I not have known this? My fingers are silent. I can’t think of a thing to ask, but I’m overwhelmed with questions. Seth never speaks about himself. Not in a million years would I have guessed he was raised in China.
Ash?
Mentally processing you in China.
Left hair there.
You’re better off without it.
And then there’s nothing. Did I go too far? I lightly tap on the keyboard waiting for his return. I couldn’t quit before the hair comment?
Back. Sam home. Locked out.
Too bad my brother marrying. Dave could room with Sam.
Sam’s cool. Cooks.
Cooking not so bad. Grocery shopping painful. I wrinkle my nose.
Go Friday night. No one there.
But everyone knows you’re loser.
LOL. Am loser. Bald, aging engineer.
That’s not in your online profile is it? Bad for image.
What image?
I decide it best to change the subject. R U square dancing?
Talk about bad image.
“Ashley, what are you laughing at?” Brea’s at the foot of the stairs, rubbing her eyes.
“I’m sorry. Am I keeping you awake?”
“No, I just thought I might be missing something. Who are you talking to?” She nods towards the screen.
“Seth. He IMed me.”
“He’s making you giggle?”
“He’s very funny, Brea.” Seth is also constant, like a brilliant star or a solid mountain. Settled in his ways and also his faith. What about Kevin? I guess I crave that stability a bit, what with my family being so flighty.
“Answer Seth. He’s waiting.”
Brea is here, says hi.
Tell her hi. Starting Matrix with Sam. Night, Ash.
Night, Seth. And the little bubble disappears off my screen. What an appropriate icon.
“What did he say?”
“That his date had the IQ of a Barbie. Does anything else matter?”
“I suppose not.”
“Oh, and I’m going back to Taiwan. Purvi e-mailed me.”
“Ashley! Would you quit that crazy job? Sheesh, you’re going to be speaking another language before I know it. Or come home with someone who married you for a green card. Besides, I hate you on the plane all night. I sit up and pray and don’t get any sleep at all.”
“Did you know Seth was a missionary kid in China?”
“No, I didn’t. There must be a lot I don’t know about him, Ash, cuz I don’t get it. I really don’t get your sudden fascination with him.”
I sigh dreamily. “I know. Neither do I.”
“You need a vacation. You have no place to live, your clothes in storage—which totally scares me—I mean your shoes could be out of style by the time you get to them. Your job owns you, like you’re chained to a desk, only worse because it’s a plane, and the church band is making a CD and I heard you told them you haven’t got time to help.”
“I don’t.” I shrug.
“The singles ski trip is coming up—a whole year has passed. You are going on that, right? Even if it is with the Reasons.”
“I hate to ski.”
“I know you hate to ski. Get a facial in the spa up there, but you need a vacation. I think your priorities are way off and I’m worried you’re going to be a Reason forever if you don’t get out of this Valley. When I find you at the Star Wars Negative Four premiere dressed in costume, it will be too late.”
“I’m going to Vegas in two weeks for my brother’s wedding.”
“Dodging porn leaflets and passing slots is not going on vacation for you, Ash.”
“They have spas there.”
“Promise you’ll go to one?”
The question leaves me antsy. I used to love anything girly like that, but now things are different. I don’t lay back and relax. I worry about all that I forgot to do before I left. All the briefs that must be looked over one more time. Thinking of all the ministries I used to do, I just feel so inadequate. And I hate to feel inadequate, so I don’t like to think or stop my momentum of hurtling forward at light speed. Lack of motion is definitely where it gets you.
“I promise I’ll go to the spa. Now unless you’re up to planning a traditional Chinese wedding, or studying patent drawings, go to bed.”
“It was good to hear you giggle again. You’ve been so strange since I got married. I came down to hear you giggle, and if Seth makes that happen, well then I’d give him another chance.”
26
Things to look forward to about Taiwan trip:
1. Seth might miss me (absence makes the heart grow fonder, and all that).
2. Get to cancel nightmare lunch date on Friday with (gag) Dan Hollings without lying.
3. Don’t have to wait for any might-be phone calls all week. I’m so busy!
4. Can put off apartment search for another week.
5. Can pick up traditional Chinese elements for brother’s wedding.
Brea enters the kitchen as Iulm typing away on my laptop. “Did you sleep at all last night?” she asks.
“I got enough.”
“I worried you might have stayed up all night talking to Seth. What did he say?”
“Nothing really,” I shrug. “We got off when you went to bed. He was going to watch The Matrix.” Oh, that was just painful to admit. “I’m going to use the phone if you don’t mind. I’m leaving today from what I gather, so I want to cancel my date with the Dark Side on Friday.”
“I can’t believe you ever said yes to him in the first place.” Brea has a look on her face like she just chewed a Brussels sprout.
“It’s your fault I’m in this situation.” I look up the number in my PDA. “If I call now, I’ll get his voice mail.”
“Dan Hollings.”
“Oh, hi,” I stammer. “I was expecting voic
e mail.”
“The early bird gets the worm, you know. Besides, this rings through to my cell. I’m actually in my car. On my way to get a client.”
I am a woman on a mission. “I needed to cancel our lunch on Friday, Dan. I’m going to Taiwan this afternoon.” I give that special mixture of serious business tone combined with deep regret. It’s Academy Award quality.
“Perfect,” he answers. “Maybe I could meet you at the airport for lunch before your flight out?”
Ack! I knew I threw too much sorrow in the voice. I should have gone for all business. The Screen Actors Guild would revoke my card.
“I’m flying out of SFO,” I say, waiting for him to tell me no, he was expecting San Jose.
“Right. So noon okay?”
I slap my forehead. I gave him way too much info. When will I learn to shut up? If I’d just said I was too busy to see another man in one week . . . “Yes, noon is fine,” I murmur.
“Great. I’ll see you at noon. At the Japanese place.”
“Wonderful.”
“You’re such a loser,” Brea says as I hang up.
I choose not to rehash the Bloomingdale’s incident, or that this date is courtesy of Brea’s insecurity. I rise above it. I’m that good of a friend. “Yeah, thanks for your support.”
Brea is wearing her running gear, a darling gray and pink sweat suit, most likely from Nordstrom. She looks way too cute to sweat and, considering her size, it seems wasteful of good clothing to me. Her pugs are nipping at her feet, ready for their morning run.
“The dogs can keep up with you?” I ask, looking at their stubby legs.
“No, they go with me in the Burley.”
“The what?”
“The Burley. It’s a jogging stroller.” She points out the window and there is a bright red and yellow stroller contraption for children, complete with the raised orange safety flag and rain jacket.
“You do not take dogs in that.”
“They’re my babies.” She picks one of them up and cuddles it close to her cheek. “At least for another two months.”
“I’m seriously worried about you. You need that kid. Get one. I’m going to work.”
“Aren’t you going to eat? There’s Atkins bars in the closet.”
Poor Brea. She thinks sugarless soy bars are breakfast. You at least need caffeine to call it breakfast. “I’m stopping for a mocha.”
What a Girl Wants Page 20
