I pull into my driveway, and Rhett comes bounding out of the house when I exit the car. I walk to the garage and retrieve the big, fake bone I bought him days before but forgot to pass on.
“How’s my boy?” He drops the faux bone and continues to lick at my feet.
“Stop it, Rhett. That tickles.”
It’s the month of May, and Kay is sweeping the front porch to get ready for the approach of summer. Although Kay celebrates each month’s holidays with decorations, May is a bit of a quandary for her. Mother’s Day is not big here, as she’s never been a mother and doesn’t think much of the state in general. And Cinco de Mayo, while fun and festive, doesn’t have much to do with Kay’s German roots; so she ignores that too. Plus, it’s over on the fifth, so she feels it’s a waste of decorating paraphernalia.
Kay celebrates May with “Spring-Cleaning” month and a break from the festive decorations to organize—as if she needs to do more of that! Pots organized by letter of functionality are strange enough, I should think.
The entire front porch has the pungent odor of Formula 409. “What did you do?” I ask while holding my nose. “Disinfect the entire house? I can smell it with my nose plugged. That can’t be healthy. Only you would eat tofu as a food product and then poison yourself with inhalants.”
“I washed up the outdoor tables, repainted the house trim, and I’m going to oil the teak chairs next,” she says proudly, waving her rag.
“Kay.” I steal the rag from her. “The dog won’t even follow me up here. I think you’re breathing too many of those fumes. You’re going to pass out. Why don’t you wait, and I’ll help you?”
Kay grabs the rag back. “It wouldn’t hurt you to spring-clean that room of yours, but I doubt the bride has time for disinfectant.” She purses her lips like someone’s angry mother.
“I prefer to keep what brain cells I have. You can’t be too careful.”
“Speaking of brain cells, Purvi expects you in the office this morning. She called here looking for you. I guess you didn’t have your cell on you.” Kay goes back to humming. She’s far too happy for someone cleaning. “How was your breakfast?”
“Don’t ask. I’m just going to grab my laptop and run into work for a few minutes before the party this afternoon. If Kevin calls here, would you ask him to call me if he needs his car?” I reach for the screen door and I think I’m home-free, but . . .
“Did you see Emily this morning?” Kay asks.
“Yeah,” I say as I pull open the screen door and start to step over the threshold.
“Well, what did she say about her date last night? Did you tell her the truth about Matt and me?”
“I didn’t really get a chance to speak to her. She was more interested in giving me her two cents.”
“What do you mean?”
I shut the screen door with a bang and look at Kay. Lord, help me be gentle with this one. The last thing I want is to hurt Kay. “Kay, I have something you might not want to hear.”
She starts to scrub with vigor, waiting.
“Emily was leaving the house with Matt this morning. Apparently they made arrangements on the phone.” I feel like I’m back in high school, telling Brea that Jim Warden was asking someone else to the prom.
Kay’s response? Nothing. She stops scrubbing. No expression, no tears, no mourning. Just stoic Kay and tight, pursed lips. She nods her head a few times and goes back to cleaning.
“I’m sorry, Kay. I never should have allowed that to happen. He’s a dog, or he wouldn’t have made a date with Emily in the first place. She’s a child next to him. He doesn’t want a woman. He wants a girl.”
“You don’t have to try to make me feel better, Ashley. Last night was fun for me. It was good practice, and I feel better about being single. Better than I ever have. When Matt talked about his wife, or ex-wife, he seemed to have no respect for the years they’d spent together. I don’t need that kind of stuff in my life.” Kay’s on her knees, looking up at me with wide eyes. I can tell she’s trying to convince herself that she’s not crushed. “My life is good. Last night was fantastic confirmation of that. The singles group needs me to organize, and I’m good with that.”
“I don’t think you need a man, Kay, and far be it from me to say so. But don’t you ever want one? It’s okay to want one.”
She sighs with a rush of air. “Maybe I did, at one time. You know, I had all the little-girl bride-dreams about playing house. But the funny part was, for me, there was never a husband in the dream, only the house. And I’ve got that already, and it’s clean just like I kept my playhouse.” She smiles.
I break into an anti-male Alanis Morissette song.
“Very funny. You really don’t need to worry about me, Ashley. I’m not desperate to get married like you are.” She says it softly, gently, like there’s not an arsenal of bullets in that statement.
“What? You think I’m desperate?”
“You know what I mean,” Kay says.
“No, I really don’t. Do you think I’m desperate to get married?” Does everyone?
“Desperate is the wrong word. I just think you overemphasize marriage and its effect on your problems.” She wipes her forehead with the back of her hand. “You’re not riding off into the sunset, you know.”
“What problems do I have that I think are getting solved?” I ask, incredulous. “I have a nice house, car, and job, and my walk with the Lord is growing. I’ve been soloing at church . . . tithing. What problems?” I repeat.
Kay sits up on her knees and blows her bangs up. “I think you don’t know how to be alone. You’ve spent so much time chasing a man that now you don’t know what to do with him.”
“I never chased a man.” Yeah, that’s not really true. “I never chased Kevin,” I amend.
“You never had to.” Kay shrugs.
“Look, this isn’t about me. If I’m making a mistake, I’ll feel the pain. I didn’t want to tell you about Emily and Matt. I’m sorry I did, but you don’t seem to care much. Most likely, they deserve each other. Two broken people chipping away at what little is left.”
“Ashley! I’ve known you to say some extraordinary things, but that is downright mean. Emily is lost. You know that. Maybe you can’t do much, but you can try to love her.”
I hold up a palm. “Whatever. If you’re not mad, I’ll be incensed for you. You talk about me being desperate, but at least I face my fears. You had fun with Matt. How hard is that to admit? Emily is more worried about a piece of property being stolen from her than Matt’s feelings.”
“Stop!” Kay says as I head into the house. “My fears aren’t yours. My fears aren’t that I’ll never find a man, Ashley.”
“Maybe not, but what’s wrong with exploring the option? I may be desperate, but you’re equally averse to submitting yourself to a relationship. You make Seth look downright anxious to get to the altar.”
She follows me in and slams the door shut with a flattened hand. “There’s nothing to be mad about with Matt, all right? I had dinner with the man. I had a great time being a girl for a night, and it’s over. Now what are you really angry about?” Kay asks.
“You really want to know? I’ve been dragged all over town by a steel magnolia for the week. I’ve had my wedding dress order canceled for heaven knows what reason. I’ve spent my mortgage money on a red egg and ginger party, my office just hired my ex-boyfriend, I have a fiancé I never see, and when I do, he falls asleep. My mother doesn’t want to play mother-of-the-bride but rather grandma. This week evil became personified for me, and its name is Emily. And if you won’t be mad at her for her wiles and finagling, I will! I’ve tried to be politically correct with Kevin, but the fact is, his sister is hijacking my wedding. And just like the day I discovered that Dave and Mei Ling’s wedding wasn’t mine, Emily’s gonna know whose wedding this is.”
Kay exhales deeply, as though I’m a child in need of a spanking. Which may be true, but I’m so not in the mood to hear it.
“Whatever you do, don’t do it before the shower, Ashley. We’ll all be sitting in the living room, and none of us will have a thing to say. Just ask yourself when you’re not angry anymore if it’s worth it, this power you’re giving her. Until then, go to work and play with patents for a while. Because matchmaking is not your skill.”
There she is, the voice of reason. So not on my agenda today. “I make no promises.”
Gainnet’s giant, cement-box building with the standard mirrored windows is quiet for a Saturday morning, with only a few cars scattered in the lot. Ever since the dot-com crash, you can tell the difference between a weekday and the weekend. One big advantage to the implosion. Engineers actually learned the definition of Saturday: more time at the Xbox.
“Hey, Jim,” I say as I enter the building. I brush my badge through the electronic checkpoint as Jim nods toward me. No Good morning, no Happy to see you, just the typical security guard nod that tells me he acknowledges my presence, but also that he can take me down if necessary.
As I’m walking to my desk, I stop in my tracks as I see Seth coming toward me in the cubicle hallway. I look around frantically for an escape, but what am I thinking? It’s clear he sees me, unless I’ve suddenly developed the skill to disappear. He stops too, and now we’re both standing here like a pair of idiots waiting for the other to make the first move. If I’m going to stand up to Emily, I figure I need the practice. I start walking toward him, my shoulders thrust out like a Vogue model for extra confidence.
“Hey, Ash, did you hurt your back?” Seth says with a puzzled expression.
“What? No.” I relax my shoulders just a tad. “It’s good to see you, Seth. I heard you got the job here. Congratulations.” See? Totally professional. No bitter angst, no melancholy, no pathetic I-wanted-to-marry-you tone. But as I look into his blue eyes, I feel his presence. My heart still jumps just a little at the sight of his angular face, his smooth bald head, and those tanzanite eyes. I force my vision to the floor. Focus on the Diesel Sporties, I tell myself. But all these memories come flooding into my mind: Seth’s laugh, his gift of Rhett the puppy. His clueless, engineering style. He doesn’t begin to tempt me, but I miss his friendship. I wish I could forget that I once loved him. It’s like a daily reminder of rejection. I wish there were more than, like, four Christians in Silicon Valley so the opportunity to run into him wasn’t so blatant.
Seeing him only reminds me that he dumped me like yesterday’s garbage. Oh, I know, officially I dropped him. But let’s face it, he wasn’t going to marry me. What self-respecting woman waits around with futile hope? You either break up or enter the realm of woefully pitiful. Quite frankly, I think I was already there before I finally found the strength to move forward.
“You look good, Ashley,” Seth finally says. “Kay tells me you’re doing well.” He lowers his head to meet my eyes and tries to force my gaze. “Rhett too.”
“Thanks. I have been well. Busy. You know how it is.” I must look ridiculous nodding my head but not looking him in the eye. I should be able to stare him down, even scare him if necessary, but I am rendered useless. I can’t look at him without remembering I got dumped. Hard.
“Purvi tells me you really are getting married.”
“August.” I nod. This is good. Talk about Kevin, the man who loves me back. “Kevin has a short leave from the hospital then, so we can take a honeymoon.” It suddenly occurs to me this wasn’t the nicest observation on his part. “What do you mean, really getting married? Not all men break out into hives when a wedding is mentioned.”
Seth rolls his eyes as if to say, We’re not having this discussion. “Do you have a minute to go over some of the software patents I need?”
My mouth dangles open. “No, I don’t have time now. It’s Saturday, and I’m here to catch up so I don’t have to go to Taiwan. If you want a meeting, see my secretary and get on my calendar, like everyone else has to do! You’re not entitled to any favors from me.” I plod down the hallway, embarrassed that my professional facade just crumbled like the Berlin Wall.
He whistles. “Still fighting that temper, huh?”
Okay, now I want to hurt him and show him the meaning of temper. I turn around and give him my most fear-inspiring gaze, my forefinger extended a mere inch or two from his rather beady, if beautiful, blue eyes. “You are like gum on the bottom of my shoe, Seth. Why don’t you go away? All the high-tech companies in the area, and you had to come here? What is up with that?” I see a newspaper sitting on a desk, and I grab it and thrust it at him. “Here are the classifieds. Maybe there’s something out there for you. It sure isn’t here.”
He smiles. “I missed your fiery speech. You’re so cute when you’re angry. Does Kevin appreciate that? Because it’s pretty hot.”
“Watch it. I’m a lawyer, and I wouldn’t think twice about suing you for sexual harassment. In fact, it would give me pleasure. You wish you had one-tenth the class Kevin has, and you know it. Empty-headed Arin is exactly what you deserve.”
He lifts his palms up. “Now that was below the belt. We’re Christians. We share custody of a dog. I should think that’s enough to bind us for life in Silicon Valley, and you could take a little ribbing.”
“We don’t share anything except maybe a pathetic history that’s just as soon forgotten.” I storm down the hallway, and I can feel him on my heels. “What do you want?” I whirl myself around.
He grabs my hands and looks me dead in the eye. “I want one more chance, Ashley. I think we’re good together, and you don’t want to be a rich-boy doctor’s wife. You’re too beautiful to play second fiddle.”
For once in my life, I am utterly speechless. One more chance? Sheesh, his odds were way better than the lottery with the number of chances I gave him. All that opportunity, and he still couldn’t manage to utter the words a woman needs to hear. Not just this woman. Any woman. I feel like whispering in his ear the magic words that will enable him to sustain a relationship next time, like I love you. Will you marry me? Okay, Seth. Practice them with me now! After all, he’s no spring chicken, and without a bank account like Trump’s, his opportunities are probably drying up. Even Rogaine isn’t going to help refresh them.
“Arrgh!” I untangle myself from his grip and jog to my office, where I slam the door shut with a bang. Seth: ever-clueless, ever-romantically inept!
10
Breathe. Breathe. I feel like I need a paper bag to restore my respiration faculties. Not because I’m so worked up over Seth wanting me to rush back into his arms. Give me a break. Mostly because he still didn’t really offer anything. All my emotion and outrage, and he still doesn’t get it.
Another chance? Another chance at what? Saturday nights with pizza, his buddies, and science-fiction theater? Or maybe he meant going out to dinner with coupon in hand and coming home for a rousing game of PlayStation 2. Either way, it’s not exactly tempting. Yet I feel like he wants me to be grateful for his outburst of emotion. He gave an iota of himself; now I should fall at his feet and hang out for another year.
“Arrgh!” I scream out in frustration.
I glance at my desk, and it’s so covered with files and sticky notes that it makes me think Purvi owns stock in 3M. Schematics and folders are everywhere just gasping for my attention, and where am I? Thinking about Seth and being trapped in this office while he holds court over the hallway. I hate my life some days. I want to call Kevin, but he is dealing with shock victims and critical patients. My crises can never compare, and complaining about my paltry excuse for a past now bleeding copiously into my present is hardly a worthy interruption.
I even question Seth’s motives. Like, did he make this pitiful attempt at my heart to put us on equal footing in the office? So he can be seen as the victim? Poor, forlorn Seth who was left all alone. My anger starts to swell like a pent-up earthquake on the San Andreas Fault. I’m pacing my office like a rabid dog, and one thing becomes clear: I have to make a list.
Of course. A list will help me cl
arify my priorities, be the strong woman I am, and hey, maybe God will see these thoughtful words and help me out. Granted, this is probably not a biblical way to go about things, but it works for me at the moment. Since I have no Bible handy, it’s going to have to do.
MY VOWS ON HOW TO BE A CONFIDENT WOMAN, AT EASE IN ANY SITUATION
1. I will not let my future sister-in-law hijack my wedding, with her bouncy hair and fashion tips from Victoria.
2. I will not allow Seth to keep me captive in my office. I am the reason for Gainnet’s stock price. I am Patent Guru, and I will act the part. He will be my software slave.
3. I will tell Kay she must get my half of the house sold or rented by my wedding date. (She put up with me. She can certainly find someone to fit her Clean Sweep criteria.)
4. I will tell Kevin that Philadelphia is too big of a change with a new marriage. They have winter there, and I’m not anxious to take two more Bar exams. Spring at Stanford Shopping Center is my future.
5. I will tell my brother to pay me back what he owes me and not let him continue his cycle of freeloading. (No, I really won’t, but it sounds powerful, doesn’t it?)
6. I will tell Kevin his parents will not buy us a house. (I’m thinking mother-in-law unit, and that ain’t pretty.) Remember: better a dump without the in-laws than a mansion paid for by silicone. (I’m sure that’s a proverb, isn’t it?)
There. I’ve put my list in my Blackberry, so it’s official. I feel my confidence growing by the second. It makes me want to strike a Vogue pose and remember this moment. I actually get three patent schematics looked up before there’s a soft knock on my door. Peeking through the side window is Seth, my still-present ex. He’s like Pigpen’s dust cloud!
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