SUSHI for ONE?

by Camy Tang

  “You know, Mimi had a point,” Trish said, back in the bathroom to scrub at the remaining liquid.

  Lex dabbed at Trish’s shirt. “I don’t care if she had an intelligent thought for once.”

  “Hey, a little more gently, please. Do you know how much I paid for this?”

  “Do I look like I care?”

  “You could have aimed at her instead of me.”

  “I’m sorry. Next time I’m lied to, dumped, and shocked in the space of three seconds, I’ll remember to spit my coffee in a more convenient direction.”

  “You can’t blame her, though.”

  Lex looked up to make sure Trish hadn’t blown a mental gasket. “What are you talking about? I can’t believe you’re saying something nice about Mimi.”

  “It’s not something nice about Mimi, it’s an insult to you.”

  “Oh, well that’s so much better.”

  “Think about it. You and Kin-Mun have been friends for so long. If you guys had anything between you two, don’t you think it would have happened already?”

  “I told you, he just never saw me — ”

  “Oh, dream on. Mimi had every right to ask Kin-Mun on a date. How could she have known you’d suddenly go vampy on him?”

  “That’s rich, coming from you, when you just complained about Mimi stealing your boyfriends.”

  “No, there’s a difference. Mimi knew they were attached to me — er, belonged . . . she knew they were mine.”

  “She knew Kin-Mun was mine. And she knew about Grandma’s ultimatum. She knew I’d be looking for someone.”

  “Unlike you, Mimi can’t be ‘friends’ with a guy. She either loves them or dumps them. Since you and Kin-Mun weren’t lovers, she figured you never would be.”

  Lex shot the crumpled paper towel into the trash. “Why are you defending her? I’m the injured party here.”

  “You’re stupid is what you are. You wouldn’t listen to me about Kin-Mun. He isn’t right for you.”

  “How could I know he wouldn’t be thrilled to date me? There’s nothing wrong with me, Trish. I’m fine the way I am. I don’t have to change for anybody.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “I don’t need to look different.”

  “Not at all.”

  “I’m fine the way I am.”

  “Well, you need to aim better.”

  Lex eyed the mocha stain on Trish’s sunflower silk top. “I’ll pay for dry-cleaning.”

  “No, it won’t come out. I want that pink top you bought today. You won’t need it now.”

  “Just thwack my heart open with a Chinese cleaver, why don’t you?”

  “Puh-lease. I know you too well. In about an hour, you’ll get over this ‘Oh poor me’ phase. And then, guess what?”

  “What?” Lex sighed.

  “You are going to be kamikaze mad at Kin-Mun.”

  “Kamikaze mad? What — I’m going to ram my car into the side of his house?”

  “No. You’ll be so mad that you wouldn’t waste that pink blouse on a date with him if he groveled.” Trish smiled, as persuasive as a geisha. “I’ll get that nasty pink thing off your hands and out of your sight.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Don’t think too long. I have a date tomorrow night.”

  SIX

  I should go look for a condo.” Lex took a bite of Chunky Monkey ice cream and stretched her legs onto the battered oak coffee table.

  Trish looked up from the edge of her Cherries Garcia. “What? Why?”

  “It’s part of plan B.” She rubbed at a drop of ice cream on the dull orange and muddy brown of the living room couch.

  “Kin-Mun was your plan A? Not much of a plan A, if you ask me.”

  Lex had expected to feel upset for longer. Could she really get over someone so fast? “I guess I fell for an illusion. Or an ideal.”

  Trish stuck her nose back in her ice cream. “Why a condo? I know you were saving money for a down payment, but now it looks like you’ll need that money to pay for the girls’ playoffs travel.”

  “I don’t have enough for the entire team’s travel expenses. Besides, I’m sure I can get someone to sponsor the team instead. If they’d ever call me back.” Lex glared at the silent phone.

  “It’s a lot of money.” Trish fished out a cherry.

  “So, I also need to keep searching for a boyfriend.”

  “You don’t need a boyfriend. Just somebody to bring to Mariko’s wedding.”

  “Grandma’s expecting a boyfriend, not just a date. She’s going to be looking for some lover-like behavior.” Lex shifted her seat in the sagging couch springs.

  “You realize that whoever you bring, Grandma’s just going to complain about something he’s not.”

  “What do you mean? She’ll be ecstatic I’m dating. She’ll love him.”

  “Wanna bet? It’ll be the same thing she did to Mariko. ‘He’s too short, he’s too tall, he’s too skinny, he’s too fat, he’s not Japanese, he’s not Chinese’ . . . Mariko could never win.”

  “Well, Mariko dated some pretty pathetic losers.”

  “I think Mariko’s only marrying what’s-his-name because Grandma couldn’t find anything wrong with him.”

  “Why should I care what Grandma thinks of my dates, anyway? She’s not the one kissing them good-night.” Suddenly Lex’s throat tightened. She couldn’t swallow her ice cream.

  Trish gave a quick, wary look. “Are you going to be okay — ?”

  “I’m fine.” Lex scraped at her ice cream with her mouth still full.

  They ate in silence for a moment, then Lex gave the coffee table a frustrated kick. “Why do we care so much what Grandma thinks? We’re pathetic.”

  Trish kept eating. “It’s ingrained fear.”

  “Yeah. Even when I know I’m right, it’s hard to disagree. Why are we so intimidated?” Lex took another bite. “She’s only ninety pounds. We could take her.”

  Trish ignored Lex’s tongue-in-cheek. “She’s bigger than ninety pounds.”

  “What do you mean? She’s only — ”

  “No, I mean she’s larger than ninety pounds.”

  “Oh. Yeah.” Lex set down her ice cream and stared at the phone, willing it to ring. “Well, I have four months. I’m sure I can find some nice guy.”

  “You know, even if you dump him after the wedding, by that time you’ll have found another sponsor for the girls’ team, right?” Trish waggled her spoon at Lex. “Why are you stressing? Just pick up somebody from volleyball or something.”

  “I dunno.” Lex crossed her arms and curled up in the sofa. “I hate being forced to do this.”

  Trish paused mid-bite. “Are you not ready yet?”

  “Of course I’m ready. I just don’t like being prodded like a cow. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it my way.”

  “What’s the difference? Grandma still gets what she wants.”

  “I have control of my life, not her. I’m not going to date every Tomeo, Daiki, and Haruto like Mariko did. I’m ready to date, but I’m not stupid. If I’m going to be out with a guy, he has to pass certain criteria.”

  “Criteria? What are you going to do, ask to look at his teeth like a racehorse? Or under his hood like a car? ‘Flip up your shirt, please.

  No back hair? Okay, you’ve passed inspection.’ ”

  “Baka.” Lex swung a pillow at Trish. “No, I’ve been studying Ephesians in my women’s Bible study. It’s got all the traits of a godly man. I’ve been making a list.”

  Trish chortled. “A list? An Ephesians List? I’ll bet it’s a mile long.”

  “No, it’s only six points.”

  “Just six? Let me guess. Heartbeat? Check. Can read? Check.

  Worships the ground I walk on — ”

  “Shut up. It’s a good list.” She ticked them off on her fingers.

  “One, he has to play volleyball very, very well.” “Oh, that just widens the field. That’s in Ephesians?”


  “Well, I have to ‘submit’ to him — you know, ‘wives, submit to your husbands’ — and I’m not submitting to anybody who can’t beat me in volleyball. Two, he has to be physically attractive. It’s the whole ‘oneness’ thing. I have to actually want to ‘be one’ with him.”

  Trish snorted with laughter.

  “That’s gross! You’re getting ice cream everywhere.”

  “Sorry.” Trish covered her mouth.

  “Three, he’s got to be Christian.”

  “That’s third? Not high on your priorities, hmm?” Trish poked her in the ribs.

  “Er . . . it’s in no specific order. Four, he has to have a good, stable job.”

  “Where did Paul say he has to be rich?”

  “Not rich. But Ephesians tells men to love their wives just as they feed and care for their bodies. So that means my boyfriend — or future spouse — needs to have enough money to feed and care for me, right? Five, he’ll be faithful. No sexual immorality, impurity, all that stuff.”

  “That’s in Ephesians too? I have to read my Bible more.”

  “Six, he won’t lie to me. ‘Put off falsehood and speak truthfully to his neighbor.’ ”

  “How are you going to know if he’s lying?”

  “Um . . .” Lex dropped her legs from the coffee table. “Well, hopefully he won’t. He shouldn’t manipulate me or deceive me in any way.

  So, what do you think?”

  Trish shrugged. “I guess that’s doable.”

  “I just want to be careful, you know?”

  “Yeah, I know.” Trish set down her empty carton. “So what’s up with buying a condo?”

  “Think about it. A house declares independence. What’s more, to the family, it’s not a form of independence that’s outright defying Grandma. It’s an acceptable form of independence because it’s considered an investment.”

  “Oh, I get it.”

  “I need to make a statement. Even if I show up at Mariko’s wedding with a boyfriend, I want to show Grandma that I’m not completely under her thumb.”

  “Grandma’s not a monster.”

  “Easy for you to say, she hasn’t threatened anything important to you.”

  “She was actually pretty nice to me the other night.”

  “Huh? Why?”

  “I introduced her to my new boyfriend.”

  “So who’s the flavor of the week?”

  “Shut up.” Trish stuck out her tongue, then launched into her giggly mood when talking about a new guy. “I met him when I went out to lunch last week at Sako Sushi. He’s a waiter. He gave me fresh chopsticks.” Trish dimpled. “And he spoke Japanese to Grandma.”

  “Score!” She gave Trish a high-five. “No wonder Grandma liked him.”

  “I’m telling you, being on Grandma’s good side is better than where you are now. Find a boyfriend.”

  “Well, I’ll start at work tomorrow. Maybe my coworkers have some leads.”

  Lex entered her tech manufacturing company in the morning to the melodious sounds of the Gorgon and the intern screaming at each other.

  “If you make the mess, you clean it up!” The administrative assistant’s bellow resonated from the entrance foyer down the hallways to the managers’ offices.

  “I had a family function to go to!” Cari, the newly hired intern, had plenty of the head-wagging thing going on.

  Lex’s entrance through the glass doors didn’t even pause the argument.

  The middle-aged woman gave the hip intern a look that lowered the air-conditioned area to below freezing. “You spilled the entire bottle of soda. At least you could have gotten paper towels!”

  “Somebody pushed me! It wasn’t my fault!”

  “It doesn’t matter! Grow up and take responsibility or don’t come to the afternoon office parties.”

  Cari’s blue and purple glitter eye makeup glinted in the fluorescent overhead lights. “Even you can’t keep me from going to the office parties, you old hag.”

  Good going, girlfriend, insult the Gorgon. Make her difficult to work with all day for everybody else.

  Lex kept to the periphery of the foyer and managed to nip back to her cubicle. She guessed she wouldn’t be asking Cari about her favorite singles’ hangouts this morning. Maybe this afternoon. She wouldn’t be able to hold a civil convo with the admin all day — she’d have to ask someone else about real estate agent recommendations.

  She passed two of her coworkers — privately she called them the Gossip Twins, GT1 and GT2 — huddled as usual in a cubicle furthest from the managers’ offices.

  “Did you hear that she got called in yesterday?” GT1 always thought her voice didn’t carry, but Lex could hear her two cubicles away.

  “I heard she got reprimanded for rubber-stamping the documentation.” Smug and superior, GT2’s softer-pitched voice still rang audibly.

  “Was she too lazy to check it?”

  “She got distracted when her boyfriend called.”

  Both Gossip Twins were young and sociable. For a flickering moment, Lex considered asking them about a good place to meet guys, but . . . She walked past their giggling session.

  Lex arrived at her cubicle and found a large note scrawled on her yellow sticky pad: See me. – Everett.

  What now? Lex had finished her CAD work yesterday — ahead of schedule, thank you very much — so what could Everett complain about now?

  “What do you need a new chair for?” Everett dispensed with any greeting as soon as Lex appeared at his office door.

  “My back is giving me problems, so I need an ergonomic one.”

  Like, duh.

  “Your chair is fine. It’s not broken, is it?” His bald pate had begun to glisten and blush. Great. Temper tantrum ahead.

  “Well, the back adjustment screw is stripped — ”

  “Then get maintenance to fix it. You don’t need a whole new chair.” Everett tossed the purchase order onto his haphazard desk, where it disappeared in the sea of other white papers.

  “Mark looked at it, and he says — ”

  “Who the heck is Mark?” Everett’s violent head-rearing dislodged a few combed-over wisps.

  “Mark is our head of maintenance.”

  “Oh.” Everett harrumphed. “So, what’d he say?”

  “He said to get a new chair.”

  “Why can’t he drive down to Office Depot and pick up a chair?”

  “We went last week, but none of them fit. My desk is too high and my legs are too short.”

  “So you need this $250 chair?”

  “It was the cheapest ergonomic we could find.”

  “You don’t need a special erko — ergic — nomic chair.”

  “My old chair is causing my lower back to hurt.”

  “Nonsense! It’s all that volleyball you do.”

  That did it. An ume-red haze dropped over Lex’s eyes. “I played for years before coming to work for this company and never had back problems until I got that computer chair at my desk.”

  “Delayed reaction injury. The answer’s no.” Everett somehow found the purchase order from his desk — or maybe he didn’t, but he thought he picked up the right paper — and crumpled it up.

  Lex considered screaming “Avalanche!” and flinging the layer of papers over the edge of his desk. Or maybe she could dump him out of his posh leather chair like a dump truck and run off with it to her cubicle. Or maybe she could yank out his computer cables and hold them ransom until he gave in.

  Lex’s teeth ground against each other. She whirled and exited the Chamber of Torture.

  She almost collided with someone rushing past. “Oops, sorry, Anna . . . What’s wrong?”

  Anna dashed at her eyes, and her blotchy face scrunched up even more. Her nose turned neon.

  “Oh, no. Is it your manager again?”

  “Yesterday we were working together so well . . . laughing and joking. This morning, she yelled and threw her flowerpot at me. She said I did shoddy work.”

&
nbsp; Lex rolled her eyes as she walked down the hall with Anna back to the cubicles. The more distance from her manager’s office, the better.

  Lex walked close to a sniffling Anna but balked at putting an arm around her shoulders. She wasn’t as uncomfortable touching women as men, but she still didn’t like the physical contact.

  The tears gushed from Anna’s swollen eyes. “I just don’t get her.

  She’s so moody whenever I talk with her, I never know if she’s going to smile or bite.”

  “If you want me to help you — ”

  “No, it’s not the work. It’s the mental anguish of working with her.” Anna broke down into wrenching sobs.

  Lex’s desk didn’t have tissues, so she reached into the cube next door to snatch some from her box. Anna crumpled them in her hand and dabbed her face.

  Lex stayed with her until she calmed down. Anna blew her nose —loudly — and looked around for a trash can.

  Lex followed her gaze. What had happened to her trash can?

  “Uh . . .” Lex peeked into the cubes on either side of her. Both missing trash cans. What was going on?

  Anna’s hand flapped around, still searching for a landing spot for her tissue.

  Lex swallowed a sudden upsurge of bile, but held out her hand. “Here, give it to me. I’ll find a trash can.” Poor girl. Lex couldn’t make Anna feel worse by letting her anti-bodily-fluids phobia show on her face, although her cheeks felt clammy.

  Anna shuffled away, and Lex zigzagged through the cubicles, searching for a trash can. Who had pilfered all the trash cans?

  “Aaaieeeeee!” Cari’s shriek pierced through the cubicle walls like a spray of bullets.

  Despite Cari’s obvious distress, Lex would have avoided yet more drama, but just her luck, she stood a few cubes down from Cari’s. The girl bolted out of her desk, hands chicken-flapping, mouth wide open and emitting more screams, legs pumping up and down like on a stairmaster.

  Jerry followed behind her, weaving slightly, face pale. “I’m sorry,Cari . . .”

  Cari ignored him, instead wailing and flicking her purple manicure at the beige and mauve design on her skin-tight T-shirt.

  No, not a design. The streak that splashed from one shoulder across her chest was vomit.