Single Sashimi

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Single Sashimi Page 5

by Camy Tang


  “Mom, it’s not like I cut out on you in order to spend time with Dad.”

  “You have before.” She crossed her arms and rubbed her silk jacket sleeves. She looked alone and hurt, but Venus knew by now it was just a manipulation tactic.

  “What else am I supposed to do at Christmas? I can’t be in two places at once.”

  “You always like being with him more than me.”

  “I hardly spend time with either of you because of work.” However, her mother’s accusation was true. Venus spent much more time with Dad, who had loved her even when she’d been fat, had praised her and believed in her. Unlike her silly, fashionable, irresponsible mother, who had harped on her in private and ignored her publicly because she was ashamed of her overweight daughter. She’d acted the part of the caring mother once Venus lost weight, but Venus knew her mom’s selfishness by then and wasn’t about to be taken in by a suddenly loving demeanor. Their relationship had become more strained, more cold on her side and complaining on Mom’s side.

  “Probably going out now to have dinner with him.” She sniffed.

  Venus stared at the stucco ceiling (ugh, there were huge cobwebs up there! She had to clean that right away) and tried not to give way to the long, blood-curdling shriek that was itching to burst out of her throat. “Mom, you are so paranoid!”

  “Well, where are you going, then?” She flung her hands out.

  Venus hesitated. Trish was still her niece, but Venus really didn’t want her mom tagging along to the hospital. It was stressful enough waiting while Trish huffed and puffed in labor (or whatever it was she learned in those classes), but to have to deal with Mom’s whining at the same time would make her ready for a straitjacket.

  Still, she’d be livid if she heard about the baby from someone else, because she knew how close Venus was with Trish.

  “Trish is in labor at the hospital.” She heard the sound of a missile whistling downward and crashing into its target. Kaboom! The sound of her inner peace blowing to smithereens.

  Mom gasped, looking so comical it was almost fake. She grabbed Venus’s arm, and her rings bit into her skin. “We should go see her!”

  “Ow! Leggo!” She yanked her arm away. “I came to get clothes for tomorrow. I’m going to spend the night at the hospital with her.”

  “Well, I’ll wait for you.” She stepped away so Venus had a clear shot to her door. She toyed with the fantasy of running inside and locking her mother outside. Coward.

  “Why don’t you go to the hospital and I’ll meet you there?” Hope blossomed in her heart.

  Mom’s smile was as sweet as Japanese White Rabbit milk candy and completely insincere. “No, I’ll drive with you.”

  Venus stalled as she opened her front door. Hardly anyone had been in her home except her cousins and her dad, all on rare occasions. And in a few days, she’d had a slimeball and her mother inside. She squeezed her eyes shut. Her heart was being torn into with some multi-pronged fork. She pushed open the door and deactivated the alarm.

  Mom practically elbowed her aside to see her condo. “Oh…this is nice.”

  Venus made quick work of packing her clothes, her vanity kit, and lots of her gossip mags to read in the waiting room. All the while, her mom commented on everything she saw.

  “What a nice couch…although it’s a bit low to the ground. And don’t you think it would look better with gold stripes along the white?

  “What a gigantic television! Is that a flat panel? How much did you spend on that? Do you really need that huge TV just for playing your video games?

  “You still play your video games, don’t you? Or did you finally give that up? It made you a nice chunk of change while you were in college, and a little bit of fame too—but from the wrong kind of people. Who cares about all those grungy gamers, after all? Why couldn’t you have caught the eye of some handsome promoter, instead?

  “Do you still read those People and Star magazines? Really, Venus. I’m ashamed you have such plebian tastes…

  “Is that a Gucci suit? Now, that’s handsome. Although it’s a bit masculine, don’t you think? I’d try it on, but it’s probably a bit loose on me.

  “What lovely shoes! You like Dolce and Gabbana? I don’t care that much for them. They just don’t look good on my feet. Do they look good on yours? Well, you have such long feet…”

  “Mom, let’s go,” Venus barked, holding open the front door, her bag in her other hand.

  Mom twittered as she walked out, her heels clicking on the tile floor. “Such a nice color scheme…although it would look better with a few bright red accents, don’t you think? With some black thrown in? And your place is so small! How can you live in this teacup—

  “Oh, your top is down?” Mom pursed her lips as she stared at Venus’s convertible. “I’ll drive—”

  “I have to drive so I can go to work tomorrow. If you want, you can take your car—”

  “No, I’ll ride with you. Spend some girl time with my girl.” She skipped to the other side and opened the door.

  Girl time with my girl? Oh please. The last time Mom had wanted “girl time,” she actually had wanted Venus to go shopping with her at Neiman Marcus so Venus could pay for an insanely expensive pair of shoes for her.

  The sooner Venus got to the hospital, the sooner she could foist Mom off on one of the other aunties who might be there. Jenn had called her mom, so maybe Aunty Yuki was there. And Trish’s parents had said they’d pick up Grandma before heading to the hospital. Venus would even welcome stern Grandma over her critical, talkative mother. Well, she might not be so elegant after a ride with the top down. Maybe she could take the freeway…

  She turned the key. The engine roared to life…then sputtered and choked as it died. Nononono.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know.” She turned it again. Nothing. She kept turning, and nothing kept right on happening. She glanced at her gas gauge.

  “I’m out of gas.” She’d had an eighth of a tank when she drove into the Chinese restaurant parking lot, and she’d made a mental note to fill up before she got home. But with Trish’s labor, going to Trish’s house to pick up her things, then heading here, she’d completely forgotten about it.

  Noooo. Not now. Couldn’t her car have run on fumes for just a little while longer?

  “Just call triple A. They’ll bring you some.”

  “I guess so.” Waiting for triple A? With her mother? She moaned.

  “Oh, don’t be so glum, darling.” Mom rubbed her arm. “Think of it this way—more time with me!”

  Venus discovered she was no match for Aunty Marian, Trish’s mother. Trish still hadn’t delivered, and Aunty Marian sent everyone home from the hospital despite protests they could all camp out in the waiting room.

  Aunty Marian glared at all of them. “I’d like you all to be awake when the baby finally does come.”

  Even though Venus had gotten home at two a.m., she still woke up at five.

  Staring at the ceiling made her aware of the cobwebs wafting in the corners. Well, if she couldn’t sleep, no use staying in bed doing nothing.

  Same-o, same-o: Throw on her exercise clothes, thirty minutes on the treadmill. Shower. Turn on the coffeepot. Dress.

  Bible reading. Sitting at her one-person breakfast table, same as always, with a cup of organic coffee with organic soymilk. Following the Bible in a Year reading plan.

  She stared at the worn cover. Had her quiet times become rote, like the rest of her routine? Were her quiet times like her one-person table—just her, no God? That same sense of stagnation now settled in her gut, as if there really was a weedy pond lying there. Did her faith stink to God too?

  But Venus didn’t know how to revive it. She read the Bible and prayed, every day, at the same time. She didn’t think God would want her to stop reading or praying. She did what the Word told her to do—how could it not be enough?

  She was tired of being told she was never enough.

&nbs
p; She read the assigned passages, but the words reminded her of winter leaves raining down. Touching her, sliding off, gathering at her feet.

  When finished, she slammed the book closed with more force than necessary, and it slid into her coffee cup. A brown waterfall poured onto her pristine linoleum.

  Aaack! It had splattered on the wall, on the underside of the table, the legs of her chair…

  As she grabbed the roll of paper towels from the kitchen counter, her cell phone rang. The wall clock said six-thirty. Who in the world would call her at this hour? Oh, Trish must be having the baby.

  She dropped a few sheets to blot up the coffee, then raced to her purse, sitting on the end table in the living room.

  Drake Yu.

  She gasped—or tried to, but her chest had become a steel corset. Her heart thudded like a blacksmith’s hammer. Why would Drake call her after…what, five years? Six?

  Well, it explained who’d dare to call so early. Drake knew her schedule better than most of the CEOs she’d worked for. She flipped the phone open. “Hi, Drake.”

  “Venus.”

  That deep voice, slightly husky, slurring his words just a little, skipping over vowels. Just the sound made her remember his figure at the end of the meeting room table, long fingers fiddling with his fountain pen, the funny twitchy way he’d adjust his tie—usually blue, his favorite color—just before he intended to close down some discussion.

  “Are you finally going to start your own company?”

  “What?” Darn it, she hadn’t been able to keep that from exploding out of her mouth. She cleared her throat. “What are you talking about?” How did he know? She ignored the “finally” that was almost a compliment, considering who it was coming from.

  “You were thinking about it when you worked for me.”

  “Why, are you interviewing for CEO?” Not that I’ d ever hire you.

  “I figured you’d be Chief Executive Officer yourself.”

  Had she revealed part of her hand? Well, who cared if she did.

  “No, I don’t have the personality for a CEO. I need to hire one who will help get me funding. I intend to focus on operations.”

  “I heard that Oomvid passed you over for Game Lead.”

  Crunch! Venus’s molars collided, and pain stabbed into her jaw like needles. She unclamped her teeth slowly. “Did they announce it this morning?”

  “On the Web.”

  A pause while she massaged her jaw and salvaged her pride. “Why are you calling, Drake?” She hated having to ask him, but she wanted to get back to her routine. She still had her prayers to do, and she had lots to pray about today.

  “I’ve come out of retirement temporarily.”

  So soon? He’d retired last November. Not that she was keeping up with him, but she’d happened to read about it somewhere.

  He paused a long moment, as if he expected her to say something. She didn’t respond, instead grabbing more paper towels.

  “My younger sister has started her own company, a Web-based virtual community. Bananaville is like Secondlife, but family-friendly.”

  Secondlife had exploded in recent years. The virtual world was essentially a gigantic multi-person game where people’s virtual selves interacted with other virtual people. There were “islands” for interaction and entertainment, and residents could create their own islands, plus buy, sell, and trade with other residents.

  She was intrigued in spite of herself. A Secondlife exclusively for children and parents would be interesting, provided they could get the right corporate sponsors to host their own “islands” within the game. Venus mopped up the majority of the coffee, then crouched down to swipe at the underside of the table and the wall.

  “Are you okay?”

  “What?”

  “You’re breathing…unusually hard.”

  Venus gave a last grunt as she wiped the chair legs. “If you must know, I’m cleaning my kitchen while I wait for you to get to the point.”

  A soft exhale. “Same old Venus.”

  She tossed the towels in her trash can. “You have thirty seconds to—”

  “I want to hire you for my sister’s company.”

  “What part about ‘starting my own company’ did you not get?” She pulled out the bottle of Lysol and a bucket, then went to the coat closet to get the mop.

  “I’m guessing you won’t be at Oomvid much longer, and I only want to hire you for a few months.”

  “Doing what?” She splashed some Lysol into the mop bucket.

  “Chief Technology Officer.”

  She froze. The Lysol bottle slipped. She grabbed for it and dropped the cell phone with a clatter.

  “Venus?”

  She snatched the phone up. “I’m here.” She capped the bottle.

  “I’ve never been CTO. You know that.”

  “I’ve also seen you at work and know you’d be a good one.”

  “You’re saying”—she turned on the faucet to fill the bucket halfway—“you’d hire me, without proper credentials, based on how I worked for you five years ago?” She wet the mop.

  “I talked with some of your other employers.”

  “Are you stalking me?” She started mopping one-handed, awkwardly jamming the mop head into her chair leg.

  “You have a reputation for being difficult to work with, Venus.”

  Whoa! Now, that was blunt. She stopped mopping, feeling her nails press into the wooden handle. “I am n—” She swallowed. “I am demanding of my team, and I get the job done on time. Every time.”

  “It will be hard to find someone else to work for, especially if you’re going to set off on your own in a few months.”

  No kid gloves for Drake. She shouldn’t be surprised—he’d always been that way with her, and she with him. “That’s just your opinion.” Except a nauseating gurgle in her stomach told her she knew it was true.

  “How much are you hoping to earn? How long are you willing to work to earn it?”

  She sniffed and didn’t answer him. She’d been acting Game Lead at Oomvid—she could demand a high salary at her next position. Provided people wanted to work with her.

  He named a figure that made her cough. Drake ignored her gurgling. “I’ll pay you that for twelve months of your time, Venus.”

  “You’re trusting me not to drive your company into the ground?”

  “I know you wouldn’t. It’s not your nature.”

  Drat, the man knew her too well.

  “I can help you with the logistics of starting your own company.”

  She snorted.

  He sighed. “Venus, don’t be stupid.”

  “I like being pig-headed.” Her tone was sweeter than her organic Hawaiian white honey.

  “I’ve started four successful companies, and I helped my sister start this one. I might actually know something about it.”

  Sarcasm. That was new. “And you’d help me?” Sure, he’d help her. He’d help her right into a minefield. “Why?”

  “Because I want you to work for me.”

  She heard in his voice that resonance that was almost a growl, that titanium-hard determination to get what he wanted. And he usually got what he wanted.

  Not this time. Last time had been enough. She wasn’t about to confess he’d scarred her for life, but she didn’t care if it was a choice between Drake and McDonalds—she’d choose french fries. “I don’t want to work for you again, Drake.”

  “I know you don’t.”

  A Zippo lighter sprang to life in her chest, searing her breastbone.

  “So why are you pushing this?”

  “Because I also know you’re wrong.”

  “I’m not wrong very often.” Not when it comes to you.

  “You will be a brilliant CTO, and you and I will work together very well.”

  That Zippo lighter was warming her core, but not searing her. No, she wouldn’t be turned by his compliments, because he’d paired it with a statement she completely disagreed with
. “This conversation is ended, Drake.” She snapped her phone shut.

  She stared at it, lying in her open palm. Then she noticed it was shaking. She set the phone down on the counter.

  She’d never work for him again. It would take an act of God.

  Venus kicked her office door shut and plopped into her chair. Slipping off her heinous shoes—new, absolutely gorgeous, and already feeling like a spike thrust into her heel, even though it was only noon—she propped her feet up on her desk and dialed Lex. “Hey How’s she doing?”

  “Same as the last time you called. She’s still not dilated enough.”

  “But it’s been over eighteen hours.”

  “Tell me about it.” Lex sighed.

  “Hey, are you in trouble for taking off work today?”

  “Naw. SPZ lets me take personal days at a moment’s notice, and my boss knows about Trish and the baby.”

  Lex’s company, SPZ, had such a laid-back atmosphere compared to most of the companies Venus had worked at. Oomvid took the cake. Edgar had thrown a fit when she’d asked for time off this morning so she could go to the hospital.

  Venus sighed as she squelched a burp from the green monster in her gut. She may have to put up with more inflexible policies, but she was also paid a lot more than Lex. “Who’s still there at the hospital?”

  “Trish’s parents are still around. I think they went for a walk together—they’ve been almost like newlyweds the past few months, have you noticed? Anyway, Grandma’s somewhere harassing the nurses. Oh, and your mom’s still here too.”

  “My mom?” Venus drew her feet down and sat up.

  “Yeah…she’s been pretty nice, talking to me.”

  “I never said she couldn’t be charming when she wanted to.” She just never used it on her daughter unless she wanted something.

  “Well, she’s actually been encouraging. She told me your birth was pretty long too, and that I shouldn’t worry about Trish; the doctors and technology are better these days than when she was pregnant, yadda yadda yadda.”

  A brisk knock at the door, and her admin poked her head in. “Venus, Jaye’s programmers have a problem. They need you now.”

 

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