Um, like your only son’s wedding, perhaps?
“It seems a bit reasonable, Mother. Ashley wants it.” Emily leaps to my defense, and gee, isn’t that heartwarming, considering she was planning on using my wedding for her Carrie prom moment until her brother got wind of it? My negativity is definitely getting the best of me on this fine occasion. I sip my soup without so much as a slurp.
“A million things can go wrong with a sit-down meal,” Elaine continues. “You’ll have inexperienced staff who will inevitably serve from the wrong side. You’ll have guests who don’t know which fork to use at the proper time, or worse yet, which bread plate to use, which sends everyone to the wrong side of the table setting. Before you know it, there’s a lone bread plate and a person without it on the opposite side of the table. Chaos. It’s utter chaos. Whereas, when the knife and fork come wrapped in a linen cloth with their plate, there’s no explanation necessary.” She says this last part like, Call today. There’s no obligation!
Now I live in Silicon Valley. We’re considered a millionaire collective, and I’m thinking that if we can handle stock options underwater, we can certainly handle silverware options. Correct me if I’m wrong, but if the guy across from me is missing his plate, I can pass it to him, right? We’re just that accommodating.
“But isn’t this lovely?” I say as the next course is set before us. “Mmm. Grilled portobellos. Look, you have your own plate set before you.” I include a Vanna White sweep of the hand. “You can just eat your bread off this plate if you’re confused. Plus, I have a good friend in a wheelchair, and I’d rather she be served.”
Elaine’s mouth snaps shut.
“I think this is lovely, Ashley,” Emily says.
At this point, I’m not sure if I prefer Emily’s support to her hostility. The fact is, you can’t trust her. She always seems to have some invisible motivator, and it leaves me constantly maneuvering to figure her out. As for the food, if I choose buffet, Mrs. Novak will argue for the sit-down. Since I chose a vegan plate for my vegetarian friends, I feel like she’ll offer conversion classes at the door on the benefits of being a carnivore.
“I’ve chosen the menu for the wedding, and so far, everything is delectable. Don’t you agree?” I ask. “My mother will be here before the main course. She had my nephew Davey this morning.”
Elaine and Emily leave the mushrooms untouched. Apparently, high-end fungus is not a delicacy for them. We’re served a grapefruit-tasting sorbet to cleanse our palates, and my mother comes in wearing her “World’s Best Grandma” sweatshirt and sets her stained canvas bag on the floor. My mother has never carried a purse. No cows have met their demise for her shoe or bag collection. Rather, Coleman had to nix a few tents to make her Keds and her shopping mall logo bag. And it’s not even for a decent mall.
My mom looks at me and then at Emily and Elaine in their expensive knit. “Oh dear, it looks like I underdressed. But, Elaine, you’ll understand. I had my grandbaby all morning, and that child is like a touch of heaven here on earth. Just a cherubic smile, and black hair that sticks straight into the air. I’m telling you, the smartest baby you’ll ever meet. He’s nearly talking at not even six months, gurgles for what he wants. He’s just brilliant.”
Thankfully, Elaine is only critical of my every move. My mother appears exempt. “Mary, I’m so glad you could join us. We were just saying how you belonged here with us, weren’t we, Ashley?”
Huh? “Uh, yeah, Mom. Thanks for coming.”
“We’ve been enjoying an interesting meal, but I want to hear all about your opinion on sit-down meals at weddings.” Elaine pats my mother’s hand. “It seems so dreadfully formal.”
My mom looks at me. “Ashley doesn’t like buffets, Elaine. Didn’t she tell you that?” She laughs. “I suppose it’s from me spoiling her. I served her breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day of her life until she left for college. Being served is what she expects. Why, I wonder how she ever learned to do her own laundry. You do know how to do your own laundry, don’t you, Ashley?”
Not helping, Mom. I shove a spoonful of grapefruit ice in my mouth.
“Of course we want the wedding to be elegant, but we want your guests to feel at home too,” Elaine says softly, which translated into casual English means, We’re afraid of your trailer trash relatives mixing formally with our high-society guests and stealing their bread plates. I honestly think if she could have her guests in one room and ours in another, that would suit her just fine. Segregation, Novak style.
“We’re not complete hicks, Elaine!” Did that just come out? I’m looking around at the aghast faces, and yes, apparently, it did.
“Ashley, Mrs. Novak is just trying to help. Calm down,” my mother says, then turns her gentle voice to Elaine. “Ashley’s always known what she wanted. I doubt you’ll have much luck convincing her of something else when her heart is set. We tried to talk her into a practical car too. You can see how far we got with that. And those handbags she carries. She could feed a third world country.” My mom laughs. “You’d think we lived in the Arctic Circle with her coat collection.”
“She’ll have to rid herself of that convertible when she moves to Philadelphia. It won’t be practical.”
My eyes pop open wide. “How do you know about Philadelphia?” I ask.
“Ashley, Kevin is our son, and he needed his father’s word to get that interview. Philadelphia is a lovely city, and since he called us earlier this week to say how much he loves the hospital, we took the liberty of finding the perfect home for you.”
“A home? My home is in Palo Alto. I haven’t even discussed this with Kevin.”
Mrs. Novak touches my hand lightly. “It’s always hard until they get their practice started, Ashley. But then you’ll spend the day with charity work, and you’ll forget all about your initial arguments.”
“No, I mean we’ve really not decided on moving. Kevin and I don’t know what our future holds right now.”
“It holds a four-bedroom, two-and-a-half-bathroom colonial on half an acre in Philly.” She pulls out a picture of the ugliest house I’ve ever seen.
“That is so not a colonial.” Think bad tract house with a sagging roof.
“That might be true, but it is yours. Dr. Novak’s offer was accepted right away, and it will be in escrow soon. It’s in one of the finest neighborhoods. You can always redesign the house. It will be good for you while Kevin is at work.”
I push my plate away. “No. There’s no house, no escrow. Kevin and I have hardly discussed Pennsylvania.”
“We’re buying you a home as a wedding present, Ashley. I do expect some gratitude.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I hear my high-pitched voice squeak at my future mother-in-law. Lord, just stop me now! “I’m not living your life, Mrs. Novak. No offense to your choices, but they were yours. I will make my own. My own wedding decisions, and my own living decisions—”
“Ashley, it is my son’s wedding too, and his future. You can’t possibly believe your patent work is more important than my son’s career. Seeing as how Kevin isn’t here, I’m acting in the best interest of my son and his upbringing. And these wedding decisions don’t feel warm to me.”
Stand closer to the candle!
“I think my decisions on my wedding are very warm,” I say as the sorbet is lifted away. “The church is overwhelmingly ornate, I’ll give you that, but our attachment to Stanford for Kevin and me is important. We met there. We fell in love against the odds, if you will. The romance of it all makes up for what you might deem as too formal. Besides that, the Stanford campus itself is warm. Wrapped in redwoods and eucalyptus trees, it’s like a big, open spa scent that calms the senses. You can almost feel the hot rock massage coming!” Okay, now I’m standing and nearly shouting. Not sounding all that Zen, actually.
“Kevin has an important future ahead of him. It’s your decision if you choose to go along.”
“That’s right. It is my decision. Actually, i
t’s our decision. Mine and Kevin’s. Not yours.” I stand up, livid that this woman thinks she can hijack not only my wedding, but also my whole life. Not to mention livid at my wonderful fiancé for abandoning me and telling me nothing about this house.
“Ashley!” My mother barks. “Sit down. You’re making a scene.”
I grab my handbag. “I don’t want to sit down, and I don’t want to plan this wedding anymore. No one cares what Kevin and I want. I feel like I’m in a bad reality TV show, and you think we’re just playing parts where you insert us at the necessary camera shot. I don’t know what I was thinking when I said I wanted to get married. I don’t want to get married. Mom, I’m sorry.” I walk out, leaving her there with the Southern, coldhearted queen bee of Atlanta and her worker bee offspring.
My head falls into my hands as I realize I don’t have a car or transportation back to work. I have to leave Kevin’s car with all the luggage in it for the Novaks. Let them pay to get it out of valet.
I can’t stand my fiancé’s family. I’m in love with Kevin, but if I marry him, I’ll spend the rest of my life living in complete turmoil whenever we see his family. I look up to the blue summer sky, and I feel tears roll down my temples.
“Just once, can’t You give me something I want without attaching a great big black ball and chain to it?” I moan. My cell phone rings, and it’s Brea. “Hello,” I say with an added sniffle.
“John said he’d come home if you still want me at the luncheon.”
“The luncheon’s over, Brea. And there’s no cake testing. I’m not getting married.”
“You are so getting married. What’s the drama about this time?” Brea sighs loudly.
Sympathy would be good here! “His family’s crazy, Brea.”
“So I suppose you believe you’re the epitome of normal?”
“They want to have a buffet, not a sit-down dinner.”
“Oh my goodness, Ashley, they’re like, evil! A buffet? Next thing you know, they’ll be marking your guests with the number of the beast!”
Brea just makes me cry more. It’s not funny, and it’s not simple like she makes it out to be. Maybe I am overly dramatic, but the thought of my life being one big power struggle between the Novaks and me over Kevin scares the daylights out of me.
“They bought us a house, Brea. In Philadelphia. We don’t even know if Kevin will get the job!”
“Ashley, they bought you a house?”
“Just never mind, okay? You don’t understand. I don’t expect you to. I don’t even care if you do. Just let me have my own feelings, all right?” I slip off my heels and start to walk up the El Camino toward work in my stocking-clad feet. My new fishnets will be toast by the time I get there, but life goes on.
“Where are you, Ashley?”
“I’m on the El Camino,” I shout over the roar of Beamers and Mercedes. “Across from the mall.”
“I’m coming to get you.”
“No. I’m going to work, then I’m going home to Rhett where I belong. The one male in the world without excess baggage.”
“You know, marriage is not a simple, romantic walk down the aisle. You have to fight every step of the way for your marriage. This is God preparing you. Why do you think you should enjoy a conflict-free existence? Who are you to be free of struggles?”
“Leave me alone, Brea.”
“No, I won’t leave you alone. With Seth, I left you alone, because he was a dork, but Kevin loves you. And you love him. But if that’s all you have, that’s not gonna go far, I’ll tell you that right now. If you’re not committed to marriage, it’s good you’re walking now, because you won’t make it past the first year. Marriage gets ugly, so stick with your dog. I didn’t think you were such a wimp!”
Click.
She hung up on me. Brea hung up on me.
I can see Stanford Shopping Center across the wide part of El Camino. For once in my life, I feel like a new pair of shoes can’t solve this. Although right now, a pair of DKNY sneakers would come in extremely handy.
26
My office is a bevy of busywork, with only casual glances at my shoeless state and what’s left of my eighteen-dollar fishnets. So much about working in Silicon Valley is busyness. I wonder what all these people actually do, all giving the appearance of constant robotic motion, a continual death grip on the computer mouse.
Once in the ladies’ room, I shimmy out of my hose, slide my slacks back on, and slip back into my heels. I stare into the mirror for a while, anxious to avoid my office and questions about the “sample” lunch. If this was just a sample, I don’t even want to know what the real battle is going to be like.
Purvi is leaving, and I can’t bear to think about going back to the general counsel position. I’m a terrible general counsel. It’s too political, and I have my hands full searching for patent documents. Apparently I’m not much of a multitasker. Add to that the fact that office politics will include dealing with my ex-boyfriend as director of software, and you have an international incident in the making.
Exiting the bathroom, I garner the stares of a few admins. This time they don’t look away; their eyes follow me. Tracy comes up behind me, uncomfortably close, and pushes me into my office.
“What are you doing?” I ask her, and I watch as she yanks my disposed-of fishnets out of my waistline. Apparently I was a tad too anxious to get back to my desk and should have actually checked that the nylons made it to the trash can. “Did I just walk through the office with those hanging there?”
She nods.
“Perfect finish to my afternoon. Maybe I should go grab some toilet paper and stick it to my shoe. Have it trailing behind me for the next meeting.”
“No time for that. Purvi is leaving today, Ashley!”
“No, the end of next week,” I correct her and grab my calendar and show it written in red. “See, PURVI LEAVING.”
“They’re starting Pushpan in school, so they’re going early to give him time to adjust.”
My mouth just drops as my heart starts to pound. In my Silicon Valley tenure, I’ve seen a lot of people leave work that very day, but it’s never their idea. What can I possibly say? Not two hours ago, I was a fiancée and a successful patent attorney with too many possible dwelling places. This afternoon, my fiancée status is questionable once Kevin talks to his family. And my job? Well, where once there was success, there is now impending failure. Did I mention that I’m a terrible general counsel? But I should look at the bright side. At least I won’t be planning a huge wedding in the process of trying to do the job I’m terrible at doing. Right?
“Ashley, did you hear me?” Tracy asks.
“I heard you, Tracy. I need a moment.” Purvi taught me this business. She was the kind of manager who allowed me to do my job because she was doing hers. She didn’t micromanage me or get in my way. She allowed me to flourish. Granted, she did it while yelling at me a great deal, but to me, that was just her communication style. I never took it personally. Part of me is angry at her for leaving, and part of me envies her for getting out of the rat race that we call Silicon Valley. Although I’m not sure India’s a great alternative, but that’s just me.
“Ashley.” Purvi pokes her head in the door. “You heard?”
“I heard. You’re leaving me already. Purvi, I’m terrible at your job. I won’t last a month. When I lose my job, Kay will probably come to India hunting for you because I can’t make the mortgage.”
Purvi laughs. “You did it for nine months; you will be fine. You know what you did wrong now. You are not one to make the same mistakes. You just needed me to give you a jump start, and that’s what I did.”
I’m still shaking my head. “No. No jump starts. This career means everything to you.”
Purvi shakes her head and comes in my office, motioning Tracy to leave as she shuts the door. “My family means everything to me. You are spoiled in America. Most of you have your families and your jobs close by. It’s not always that way for us. Beside
s, you get to be my age, and tell me your career means everything. If it does, it’s time to shuffle your priorities.”
“It’s not always easy for Americans either. I know too many people who go to China and Taiwan, practically with the tide.”
She just stares at me.
“I’m glad for you, Purvi, if this is what you want. I wish I had your firm convictions. I have something for you.” I pull out a wrapped package from under my desk. “I bought it that last time you sent me to Taiwan. It made me think of you.”
Purvi looks at the package, and I swear there’s some emotion in her eyes. Here I thought she was just another robot. “Ashley, you shouldn’t be worrying about me. Not with that big wedding to plan.” She unwraps the box and finds a Seiko clock with two separate dials for two time zones.
“I thought this way you’d always know what time it was here.” I smile knowingly.
“It’s perfect, Ashley. Now I’ll always know the correct time to wake you up on a Saturday morning. I’ll never have to guess again.” She laughs. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll miss you, Purvi.”
“You’ll never think about me. You’ll marry this handsome doctor I hear so much about. He sounds perfect for you. Driven, ambitious, and unavailable most of the time. A match made in heaven.”
I shake my head. “His family is questionable. I still can’t believe you’re abandoning this life and leaving me in charge!”
“You’ll do fine if you don’t give in to emotion. These engineers will walk all over you if you let them. I figure you’ve handled Seth in other circumstances. You can handle him here. So software shouldn’t be an issue. But hardware rules the roost, so be prepared for them. When they come in, they’ll expect you to drop everything. The secret is making it look like you’re doing just that.”
“Are they looking for your replacement yet?” I ask with a small, tentative voice.
Purvi shakes her head. “It’s you, Ashley. You’re my replacement. You’re good at this job, and no one is better trained. You just need to focus your energy and be nicer to the VPs.” She raises her palms and shakes them. “Such an issue you have with authority!”
With This Ring, I'm Confused Page 23